Fog of War
by I Kazuki
Summary: A Natural, surrounded by Coordinators he calls family and friends. How far is he willing to go? The struggle of four ZAFT youths, entangled in the broiling conflict over the very right to live. Chaps 45 up.
1. The Passion of Youth

**Author's Notes: **I've never written stuff for _Kido Senshi Gundam_ or any of its many series, but I got inspiration for this SEED fanfic some time ago. It's, like many things I work on, a work in progress. It begins roughly a few days after the destruction of Heliopolis Colony, Feburary, C.E. 71. The characters it focuses on are four young men and women, all of them original characters I gladly offer up for immolation at the hands of the tradition of Gundam sidestories.

Hope this follows in that tradition. Thanks for reading. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: ** Mobile Suit Gundam SEED is the property of SUNRISE / BANDAI Visual and its creators (Tomino Yoshiyuki, Hajime Yare, et al) and all characters, situations, and otherwise fictional places/circumstances are their property therein. This is written for non-profit and enjoyment purposes only, and no infringement is intended.

**Phase 1: The Passion of Youth**

It was a sunny day at Aprilius One, in the PLANT colonies, a fairly cloudless afternoon that forced many residents who would be out for long periods to don wide-brimmed hats or sunglasses. These citizens of PLANT—coordinators all, by and large—went about their daily business at that particular space colony, one tasked with research and scientific advances for the whole of the independent nation. It was as if, for a brief moment, that the war was far away, or didn't exist at all. The Naturals weren't trying to destroy them, and they weren't trying to bring the fight back to the Earth's Atlantic Federation or Eurasia.

This would, no doubt, have been an apt description of the scene at the Government Center Terminus at Aprilius 1, save for two key facts: Aprilius was a _space station, _and thus had no 'sunny days', a contrivance of the artificial weather and solar reflectors, and the war was still very much a daily presence, even out here, at Lagrange Point 5. However, neither of these facts made any particular impression upon Saito Nagisa, of eighteen, who rode on a turbo-elevator car down to the Government Terminus, his clear dark blue eyes overlooking the gigantic lake surrounding the center, pylon-like construction that held the hourglass form of the PLANT colony together.

A recent graduate from the Heliopolis Science College at Morgenrater Electronics' civilian engineering lab, Saito was still somewhat incensed over the entire debacle concerning the station's recent destruction. The only mitigating circumstance, as he saw it, was that there were very few civilian casualties, if any. Being a neutral citizen of Orb at the time, Nagisa, a well-groomed, intellectual, and normally sedate engineering major, traveled to PLANT to get a glimpse of what someone had once said to him was 'Coordinator life'. He'd known plenty of coordinators, over the course of his life. In fact, many of his friends—also neutral citizens in the conflict—were Coordinators. Saito, coming from a learned background, with every social and intellectual amenity, simply couldn't comprehend why some people hated the coordinators so much. Conversely, Saito Nagisa was a little baffled at how some Coordinators disliked Naturals so passionately.

_Probably cause and effect, _he contemplated wearily as he stepped off of the metal platform from inside the transparent, steelglas lift tube and proceeded into the Terminus to present his immigration papers. In point of fact, it was the very presence of his many long-time acquaintances who were Coordinators, that he was here. Despite this, he felt he would meet some resistance in transit to his destination. All of it, for a very simple, fundamental reason.

Because Saito Nagisa, born and raised on the Heliopolis station, was a Natural.

"Good afternoon, your papers, please?" A comely-looking bureaucrat in the immigration section sat a processing terminal, offering Nagisa a nonchalant, but very professional smile. She didn't seem to be all that much older than himself, which didn't surprise Nagisa in the very least; PLANT was purportedly suffering from a population crisis, one that challenged its viability as a nation, which also meant that a disproportionate percentile of its youth was joining the workforce early. In fact, though he didn't know it, majority had recently been lowered to age sixteen, as opposed to Orb's eighteen and the Atlantic Federation's twenty-one.

"'Afternoon," Nagisa said noncommittally, producing his hardcopy transit papers. The young lady took them, looking down at them curiously.

"Name?" she asked, just for verification purposes.

"Saito, Nagisa."

She continued looking down. "Date of Birth?"

"Eleven-seventeen-fifty-two." He said lightly. For some reason, he felt his anxiety levels rising, and he resisted the almost-subconscious urge to break into a cold sweat.

"Place of Birth?"

"Orb Nation, Heliopolis Station."

"I'm so sorry." The lady said, glancing up at him, brushing away a strand of loose hair.

Nagisa frowned minutely. "Oh, don't worry. Almost everyone I know made it out without a scratch. We'll get along."

"I suppose. That's quite brave, Mr. Saito." She said, and reviewed his papers quickly. "Purpose of visit?"

"I'm visiting friends, Mr. Lyles Doyle, and Mimura Kunio, here at Aprilius." He said with somewhat renewed confidence. He only hoped Kunio and Lyles were on time to pick him up down at ground level; Nagisa was worn out from the flight here. It was hard enough for civilians to move about from place to place during this conflict, much more so after losing house and home. In fact, he didn't have any possessions with him besides his daypack, which he'd had with him during the attack. He'd gotten out on an escape pod with some others, and waited fifteen hours—and through another battle---before getting extracted by Orb rescue personnel. He'd put in a timely call to Mimura, a Coordinator friend of his who was his best pal during his years at the college—who incidentally, graduated that same year, advanced as he was—and was living at home with his family in Aprilius. His parents arranged for Nagisa to stay there for a while until he could either find some way to get down to Orb Homeland or find housing in PLANT—a harrowing prospect considering the circumstances.

"Expected duration of visit, Mr. Saito?"

He swallowed. "To be honest, I've got no clue. I'm staying with the Mimura family until I can either get myself down to Earth—unlikely—or find some residence here."

"Well, that complicates things…" She said under her breath, tapping her computer console sporadically. "I have to ask some more questions, then."

"Go ahead. I don't mind." Nagisa fully intended to cooperate. _So long as it doesn't get me in the hot-seat, _he thought ruefully.

"You're aware, of course," The civil servant began, "that normally our immigration laws are somewhat strict, and now with things as they are, they're even tighter, correct?"

Nagisa could only nod at that. It didn't merit any other response.

"Furthermore, I'm sorry to ask this, Mr. Saito," she said with a touch of humanity as opposed to professional efficiency, genuine regret on her dark, Hispanic-looking features, "But you _are_ a Coordinator, correct?"

So he'd been right all along. It really _did_ come down to where one 'stood' on the issue, so to speak. The invisible lines of racial separation, Coordinator, Natural, were already drawn in the genetic sand. Saito didn't see things in those terms, but he was once again made keenly aware that others weren't quite eye-to-eye with his open-handed, open-minded worldview.

His throat constricted noticeably, but thankfully, it wasn't enough to alter his voice. "No, actually. I'm a Natural."

The young woman's refined eyebrows arched up with surprise, which she _did_ make a vain attempt at hiding. Idly, Nagisa wondered just what the procedures were for someone in his position knocking on the PLANT door. He'd get through, no doubts there—the PLANT colonies were very friendly with Orb civilians, as a matter of humanitarian aid, especially considering the tragic loss of Heliopolis, and their own, infinitely worse experience with Junius 7, the 'Valentine of Blood'—but it didn't mean he would get through _unopposed. _

Nagisa made a calculated, slight frown. "I trust that won't be a problem, will it? I'm a visiting Orb citizen, and harbor no ill will towards Coordinators. My PLANT citizen acquaintances will vouch for that."

The civil servant—Fernanda Almeida, he noted, by reading the little nametag she wore—was evidently, puzzled. She probably didn't have the authority to stop him on the account of something so legally-sensitive, but Nagisa couldn't help wondering if she would try anyways. Privately, he doubted that PLANT had immigration laws specific to Naturals; it didn't seem like it would be a major issue, after all, they came _here_ to _escape_ Naturals, it would only be absurd irony that Naturals would want to immigrate.

"You may not," she said cautiously, "But that isn't my decision or judgment to make."

"I didn't think so." Nagisa said coolly. He was growing slightly irritated, and he could tell that the others behind him, all of whom were thankfully out of earshot, were probably _more_ irritated at the hold up. "In any case, my transit papers were pre-approved before I got here, I made sure of that. Can I go now?"

"Oh…" Almeida glanced down at the approval signatures on his visa for travel into the PLANT colonies—valid for only a month, an understandably short period of time—and suppressed a shrug. "Apparently, yes…of course. I'm sorry. Have a nice stay, Mr. Saito Nagisa, and welcome to PLANT."

Mimura tapped his foot in annoyance. After all his yammering about not being late to pick him up, Nagisa was sure taking his damned time in meeting up with his old schoolmate. Though, he didn't have anywhere else to be, and Kunio hadn't seen his best friend since Graduation. He was mostly just annoyed that he couldn't slap Saito hard on the back quite as soon as he would have wished.

He called ahead to know if the civilian shuttle that was ferrying him and several other Orb citizens to Aprilius 1 had safely made it through from L2, near the Earth Federation's moon-base. Indeed, the shuttle safely slid past, a civilian ship, under the auspices of neutral Orb, wasn't to be bothered by the likes of the Naturals' military. To be honest though, he knew the shuttle was also running late. But not late enough to explain why Nagisa wasn't here yet.

"We're going to miss supper," Kunio muttered lamely, looking down the terminus towards the transit office. Next to him was Lyles Doyle, the dirty-blond, charitable playboy that lived not far from him on Heliopolis, before the war started, eleven months ago. "You know, Lyles, I think he just likes the attention."

"Hah?" Lyles said, around a sneaked-in stick of crackers. Apparently he was hungry already. "You mean Old Man Saito?"

Kunio was forced to reflect his amusement rather visibly at that remark. 'Old Man Saito' was the none-too-flattering nickname Nagisa picked up at Heliopolis, because of his young age of enrollment at the Science College. No one called him that to his face though. The irony was that Kunio was only slightly older, leaving Lyles with the mantle as their senior by three years. That didn't stop the older college student from taking a liking to his younger classmates. In fact, he was very much impressed with both.

"Yeah…" Mimura Kunio trailed off, as he squinted slightly towards the transit offices' double doors. Their glass surfaces slid aside, admitting a tall figure, dressed with a dark blue overcoat, khakis, and turtleneck to walk easily in their direction, sporting a meager duffle over one shoulder, dull-black hair in a neatly-parted mane. "Hey, look, there he is! Nagisa! _Nagisa!"_

The tall youth waved, and stepped up his pace, nearly bowling into a couple of government officials in his haste to meet up with his estranged comrades. "Kunio, Lyles! _Osashiburi!" _

"Good to see you made it back in one piece, Nagi." Doyle said with a suave nod and a grin. His fair face was an odd contrast to the darker, more streamlined features of both Nagisa and Kunio, both of whom were of Japanese descent, while their friend was of a handsome, Irish-Germanic descent. He spoke Japanese almost fluently though, having grown up in Tokyo before immigrating to Orb, then PLANT. The opposite was true for Kunio and Nagisa, both of whom were fluent English speakers, the lingua franca of Orb and PLANT.

"Thanks, Lyles." Nagisa nodded amiably, smiling for what felt like the first time since he'd gotten on the escape pod at Heliopolis. He hefted his pathetically light daypack. "So, where to?"

"My place," Kunio said, pointing to his groundcar, a sleek, anodized blue late model sedan. It might have been his, or might have belonged to his parents, Nagisa couldn't tell, and Kunio didn't give any explanations

"Alright." Nagisa nodded again, and slapped Doyle on the shoulder, grinning wide. "Really has been a while, hasn't it, Lyles? You doing alright these days?"

Doyle shrugged, opening the rear passenger-side door of the sedan and piling in. "Not bad, I mean, considering the war and all. It's not really a big deal here at PLANT homeland. Not like _we_ do the fighting, so…"

"The war…" Nagisa muttered distantly. Whether he liked it or not, things like war had a nasty habit of becoming pervasive elements in one's existence. _No, not just 'one's existence', _he noted glumly, _everyone's existence._ Also, whether he liked it or not, it had taken his home.

The real truth was, that while he'd have liked to be here for purely pleasure-related reasons, he'd traveled to PLANT out of sheer circumstance. The idea that he was here to take a look at how it was on 'their' side of the fence was just a conversational contrivance, and both of his friends knew it. Neither felt like pointing out that their longtime collegiate conspirator had earned the dubiously distinctive title of 'war refugee'. For how _long_ he'd be able to lie to himself, Nagisa knew, was a question he didn't feel like answering yet.

Doyle was getting bored just sitting in the car, and uncomfortable with the sudden and profound silence. Outside, the Aprilius Lake gleamed in the artificial glow of Aprilius 1's ersatz sun. Hoping to change the mood, he leaned forward between the seats. "Hora, Kunio, put on some music, will ya? We're gonna die in here like this."

"Sorry," Mimura apologized sheepishly, and he though he caught Nagisa forming a small smile of amusement. He pushed a button on the steering wheel, turning on the broadband radio. A popular song was playing when they tuned in, with a cool beat, and a pretty-sounding female singer. "Oh…this song again."

Nagisa cocked his head to the side, as the road rolled on ahead of them. He listened for a moment, before realization sunk in. "This is that Rakusu Klein girl, right? Or am I just being dumb? I hear she's pretty famous here."

"You bet," Doyle said from behind, speaking in their peculiar group dialect of English and Japanese, "She's one of those…what do you call them…idols?"

"Something like that," Kunio said with a snort. Then he smiled fully. "Actually, she isn't that bad. She can sing well, at least. She's too sugary in my opinion though. She's on the Peace and Memorial Committees."

Nagisa thought hard for a moment as they went on an off-ramp into a residential district. Saito never visited PLANT before, so he'd never been to either of his friends' PLANT-side houses, though he met both of their families on Heliopolis several times over the years. As he was thinking, he blurted out. "She's getting married, isn't she, Siegel Klein's daughter? Some sort of hubbub about her and some military brat?"

"Oh, _that_." Kunio laughed laconically, putting the car into a sharper turn than Nagisa imagined the local traffic cops would have liked. "Asuran Zara, Supreme Commander Patrick Zara's son. I don't know if he's a brat or not, but some of Rakusu's fans got kinda miffed about that."

Nagisa grinned, looking over his shoulder at Doyle pointedly. "I'd imagine."

Doyle just turned his nose up, and looked away, mock-hurt. "Just like her for the music. Pink hair is a little too much, even by _my_ standards. I wonder if it's natural, though, if you know what I mean."

Nagisa and Kunio both laughed at that, as the car pulled into the driveway of the Mimura residence. Like many families these days, the Mimura were a military family, with Kunio's older brother and father serving for Z.A.F.T. and the paternal side going back as far as the twentieth century's Japanese Self-Defense Forces. Because of this, there was some pressure on Kunio to join the military, but he so far steadfastly refused, alleging that his skills are better used as a civil engineer, much like his friends.

The Mimura house was pretty large, like most of the houses in this upscale, affluent district. It was a very peaceful-looking stretch of scenery, not very far from the central colony spire. A few aberrant clouds rolled about noiselessly, painting a picturesque afternoon for the trio as they got out of Mimura's four-door and their unlikely guest threw his light pack over a shoulder, walking abreast to his friends. They were all smiles, despite the previous tense air, ready to get in a lot of catching-up work. A little more than a year went by since graduation—just before the Bloody Valentine Incident—and they'd been almost completely out of contact for the duration, as both Mimura and Doyle left for PLANT.

They were lucky, as they came in through the large, oak-like front door, to discover the man of the house was in. Nagisa craned his head about as he passed through the door, which Kunio unlocked and stepped through first. The only conclusion that Nagisa could make was that Kunio's house was beautiful. It was no estate, he knew, but it could have fooled him, had he only seen the entryway.

"Boys, there you are. We were beginning to worry." A strong, but somehow warm voice said from an unexpected angle. When they turned their heads, they were greeted by the form of Mimura Hyosuke, still dressed in the dark amethyst of ZAFT's Naval Command. Nagisa had no clue about how to read the yellow and red rank insignia, but he was willing to bet that Kunio's father rated higher than a captain, at the least. He couldn't remember off the top of his head what the head of the household was before the war.

"Sorry Dad," Kunio said with a grunt. "Nagisa ran into some snags, but he's here now, not-so-express delivery, but fragile contents in one piece." Kunio smiled convincingly, and patted an unsuspecting Nagisa on the back, forcing him to step forward.

Standing in front of a man so resplendent in his dress uniform, the eighteen-year old ex-college student didn't know whether to bow by Japanese custom or to execute a parade-ground salute. Fortunately, for instances such as this, instinct sufficed, so he did the former and lowered himself slightly. " _Konnichi wa, Mimura-san. Osashiburi desu ne."_

The middle-aged man smiled fondly. He was the primary reason why Nagisa was allowed an immediate visa; Mimura pulled as many strings as he could for the friend of the family, to ensure that the youth would have _somewhere_ to come home to in the face of such a dramatic turn of events, instead of waiting for passage to earth in an Earth Alliance refugee camp. This was a fact that Nagisa was well aware of, and thankful to no end.

"Ah, Saito-kun!" he said, taking a few steps towards the boys, wiping his hands on a towel—probably washing up for dinner—and returned the bow with a nod. "It _has_ been a while. Not since before Christmas last year. I'm glad you've managed to make it here safely. As you can see, you're not_ that_ late, I myself just got in moments ago."

Nagisa nodded as if to say, 'is that so', and offered another bow. "Thank you, sir. It's a relief to be among friends again. And congratulations, however late they may be." He added enigmatically, porting that small smile of his that seemed to be a Saito Nagisa trademark as Kunio offered to take his daypack.

"Oh? Thank you, but…" The older Mimura was visibly amused. "What for?"

Still smiling tightly, he gestured lightly towards Hyosuke's uniform. "I don't know how ZAFT does its ratings insignia, but it seems there are _more_ of them on you than there were before. Simple math instead of an educated guess, I'm afraid."

Kunio cupped Nagisa's shoulder hard and gripped it. "Dad got promoted a few months ago. He's now a Colonel. We can't put one past you, can we, Nagisa?" His old college friend's eyes were bright with pride and satisfaction.

"No, we can't," Mr. Mimura laughed heartily, walking towards an arched doorway that led to the dining room, where Kunio's mother had already placed the serving dishes. He continued to look entertained by Nagisa's commentary. "Always interesting, talking with you, Saito-kun. Lyles may have been the one to teach him his fondness of young women, but I think you were his professor in the art of being a smart-aleck."

"_Anata!"_ Kunio's mother protested, overhearing the somewhat rude compliment. Apparently she didn't share the Colonel's direct manner and sense of humor. Both Lyles and Nagisa were already used to the older man's sly sleights and charming sense of comedic irony. Surprisingly, though the man was military, through and through, he was a literature major in college, probably how he picked up his way of being kind yet managing to make light of everyone in a way that wasn't quite offensive. It was one of the many reasons that the three young men looked up to Mr. Mimura.

"Don't worry, Satomi. He knows I'm joking." The colonel, who wasn't at all taller than Nagisa, inclined his head sagely in the boy's direction.

Nagisa laughed nervously, not really wanting to be a point of contention, however trivial, so soon into his stay. "Of course. I don't mind—Kunio and Lyles make me the butt of their jokes ninety-percent of the time anyways, when I'm not doing the same to them. What goes around, comes around, they say."

"That's the spirit." Hyosuke grinned broadly, and took a seat at the table.

The Mimura adults waited for the young men to toss their belongings and wash up before beginning their meal, and the group ate quietly, reserving the end of dinner for their conversations and catching up. Particularly, Mr. Mimura displayed a rather natural interest in what Nagisa planned to do, now that he was stranded in PLANT for what looked to be the duration of the war.

"Not that we're planning to push you out," Mr. Mimura assured after the meal, resting comfortably in a high-backed chair. "You've always been like family—your mother Natsuki was like a sister to us, and I knew your father for ten years before you were born—you're welcome to stay as long as you like. Though I am curious, as to what you're going to do with yourself."

Nagisa was thoughtful for a moment, as Lyles, Kunio, and Mr. and Mrs. Mimura observed him intently, waiting for a response. Sipping a chilled drink like the others, he considered his options briefly, and vocally. "I don't think Morgenrater is employing around here—I was going to work with them before Heliopolis—with them having been discovered to have worked with the Earth Alliance and all that…I could check out what PLANT needs in the way of civil engineers. I'm pretty sure that keeping a space-station running takes a lot of those."

"Wisely put." Kunio's father said. There was something about Mimura Hyosuke that Nagisa found so appealing, and he suspected it was because of the very fatherly nature that he exuded, even to Lyles and himself, who weren't of kin. For all that though, an outsider would have thought that the three were brothers—if they ignored how incongruous Lyles was in comparison—and that Mr. Mimura was the stern but well-loved patriarch.

Nagisa had few memories of his father, who died when he was much younger. His mother, Saito Natsuki, passed away only recently of inoperable cancer, and was something of a relative to the Mimuras, a distant cousin of Satomi, who until two years before, was an Orb citizen.

"I suppose I could look at Kunio's job research. We're in the same field, after all." Nagisa said contemplatively, throwing his best friend a glance. The other nodded curtly, an unspoken promise to share any fruitful leads. So strong was their friendship, that it didn't occur to them to compete for job slots. Lyles, the oldest, already found work as a low-level tech with the station's subcontractors.

"I can't help but wonder," Mr. Mimura murmured softly, now dressed in casual attire instead of his dress uniform, "if you're really not going to enlist, Kunio."

Kunio was well aware that no father willing acted as a recruiting officer in a time of war—but there were other circumstances at work. He could _feel_ the tradition of service embodied by his father's prominent rank. He felt partially guilty for not having signed enlistment papers yet, but to be brutally honest, he didn't want much part in the war. Oh, he knew of course, the atrocities that the Earth Alliance committed in the name of a 'Blue and Pure Earth'—the multisyllable moniker for hatred espoused by Blue Cosmos—but he couldn't quite bring himself from the sorrow of that event to the idea that killing the people that _caused_ it was justified. Two plus two just didn't equal murder, by his reasoning.

"I can't really understand it Dad," Kunio said apologetically, "I mean, it has nothing to do with family. It's just that even though so many people on Earth are saying 'Coordinators are bad because they're better' while some of _us_ are saying 'Naturals are worse _because _they're worse'."

"That makes so much sense it's scary," Nagisa said derisively. "You know it's serious when the extremists start crawling out of the woodwork. I can kind of see their point though: paranoia is the common denominator. I got a taste of that today."

"Eh?" Doyle looked up from his hands, fixing Nagisa with a stare. "What happened? Was it why you got held up?"

"I can guess." Mr. Mimura sighed heavily. "Someone asked if you were a coordinator or not—what they thought would have been routine question and answer." He looked over at Nagisa.

Nagisa was left open-mouthed for a moment, before nodding dumbly. "Yeah. Something like that. It was when I mentioned that here was the only place I really could go."

To be honest, Nagisa was surprised that the conversation had so easily drifted towards this subject matter: _the_ subject. It was the very topic that some thought the war was all about. Maybe people hadn't put the war out of their minds, least of course would be Colonel Mimura. He had to deal with the war every day. He would be leaving next week for the front again, after finishing some reports to the High Council.

"I have to apologize," The older man said quietly. "That sort of thing happens. I can't blame them. All they get to hear are the _bad_ things about Naturals, never the _good_ things. It's only irony that they couldn't tell our kind from theirs apart without a DNA test. Don't be offended though, Nagisa. They may not know it, but not every Natural is a Blue Cosmos fanatic."

"And not every Coordinator is a ZAFT-Zealot," Nagisa smiled wearily. "No offense to the Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty forces, of course. I'm just glad I had the opportunity to know good people—I don't really care _what_ they are."

"If only seasoned politicians and military commanders felt as you do, Saito-kun." Mimura grimaced. "And none taken. So, Kunio, you were saying?"

"I just didn't want to get caught up in it, you know?" The youngest Mimura looked to his father carefully, attempting to stand on as much middle ground as possible. He knew that certainly, his father wasn't going to get _mad_ over the issue. Annoyed, maybe a little irked, yes, but never _mad_ about enlistment. "And war hurts people who have nothing to do with it. Look at Nagisa—he's living proof. It wasn't just Earth forces that got Heliopolis destroyed, Dad."

The Colonel seemed to consider this. Normally, Nagisa imagined, such a snub might have been the reason for an argument, but he knew the Mimura family better than that. Not only did Kunio mean well and was respectful, but Mr. Mimura was very understanding and moderate.

"True." Nodding to no one in particular, he folded his hands. "I'm not at liberty to say much about that incident, but Admiral La Cruise fouled that up. But, blame can be tossed about as much as we like, the results still stand, and they always stand to prove that war is destructive, sometimes indiscriminately."

"Forgive me in advance, because I like playing devil's advocate," Nagisa said calmly, after a brief silence. "But what about defending a place you love, or the place you belong in? I certainly know people who would have fought to defend Heliopolis—and Mimura-san, or should I say, Mimura_-taisa_, does so daily. Maybe the reasons people fight are just as important and relevant as the reasons people _don't fight_."

Colonel Mimura could have laughed, if the subject weren't so grave an issue, at how precise he found the young ex-engineering student to be. "He sounds like a young cadet already. Maybe even an old hand."

Kunio gave Nagisa an '_et tu?' _sort of half-betrayed look, but it lacked serious substance or feeling. He was just being cross for the sake of conversation, and they knew it. "Don't encourage him, Dad. Next thing you know, you'll see the first ever Natural in a ZAFT uniform."

"That _would _be amusing." Kunio's father said without a hint of sarcasm. He grinned towards Saito. "Though I doubt your friend is _that_ eager to make me laugh as to do something like _that._"

"Though not unrealistic," Nagisa commented dryly. "After Heliopolis, I find myself feeling less neutral and willing to sit back for the ride."

The colonel raised an eyebrow curiously, probably making note to pursue that line of conversation some other time to unearth exactly what 'leanings' it was the young Natural had. In his own mind, Mimura Hyosuke saw Saito as something of a welcome oddity; a non-coordinator who could care less about the major reasons for the war, could care less for the war, and was more than willing to fraternize with what his Earth acquaintances would call the 'enemy'. Something about that struck Colonel Mimura as unusually brave.

"Now," Mrs. Mimura interrupted at that juncture, "haven't we had enough talk about war? How has the first year out of college treated you, Nagisa-kun?" Mimura Satomi asked pleasantly, drawing a look of feigned annoyance from her husband.

Nagisa busily jumped into a description of what he'd been doing since graduation—basically since when his social group fell out from around him and scattered to the wind—and how he'd been lobbying Morgenrater for a job in their civil engineering department. They'd wanted to push him into their weapons design department, which worked directly for Orb as a military subcontractor. Little did he know though that Morgenrater was actually building mobile suits for the Earth Alliance, something that made even the tactful Nagisa a little bit disturbed. The only thing he saw as _good_ about the war was that one side had a clear technological advantage. In his opinion it had been better someone _win_ than it go on forever.

"Back to war again." Satomi said with obvious disappointment. It wasn't directed towards Nagisa though, he knew that much. Rather, it was simple frustration of a family member caught in a web of violence that surrounded an entire people. That's how wars were, when you got even close to one; it surrounds you until there is nothing else. "Why don't we all get some rest? It will be getting late soon."

"Alright Mom. Doyle, you good for helping me get Nagi settled tonight?" Kunio rose to his feet and patted Lyles on the shoulder expectantly.

Lyles Doyle looked down dejectedly for a brief moment. "And I was hoping for that lonely monorail ride uptown. Shucks."

Kunio grinned. "Good. You know where the vidphone is. We'll be waiting upstairs."

"Mm hmm. On that note, by the way, Nagisa, I feel bad for you, having to leave old Helio." Doyle said morosely, folding his arms as if it was all a damned shame.

Nagisa sighed. "I thought we're over the pity-party?"

"No, no," Doyle shook his head. "You see, you're going to hate PLANT."  
"Why's he going to hate PLANT now?" Colonel Mimura sounded curious and suspicious at the same time. He had a bad feeling about _something._

"The Orb schools had cuter school outfits, hands-down, especially in Helio." Lyles said with a wide smirk, making his way to the videophone post haste before he could be met by Satomi's withering stare—and a rather accurate imitation from her son. The Colonel chuckled slowly, his 'bad feeling' more than confirmed. He knew better than to voice his private agreement with the boy in front of the wife, though. _Those girls _are_ prettier in the Heliopolis municipal uniforms…_

Nagisa smiled, feeling once and for all that he was back someplace he could call _home._ He had a gut feeling that he wouldn't take too much time in getting used to his surroundings at all.

That night, Saito Nagisa slept fitfully. His mind kept wandering to the destruction of Heliopolis, his lack of blood relations, and how turbulent things had become around him. There was one comforting thought, however, which kept him asleep: he was among friends now, and for now, he was safe from that chaos. He was among people as good as family to him, who _had_ been for years. With his mind counting himself lucky for once, Nagisa drifted off to the realm of dreams sometime deep in the night.

When he awoke in the guest room with Doyle, he noted that though the hour was early—the light coming through the window seemed yellowish still—he felt rested enough to not dawdle in bed and rise for the day. When he did, Doyle stirred once or twice before finally coming back to consciousness as well. His 'older brother' shot him a surprised look. When the pair had roomed together at the college one year, it was always Doyle waking early and Nagisa sleeping in to fiendishly late hours.

"Someone's changed." Doyle muttered, swinging his legs over the bed at the far side of the room, running a hand through his tousled hair.

Nagisa chuckled, shaking his head. "Can't act like a fool _all_ my life. Besides, I have work to do today anyways."

"Eh? Really? And you just got here, too." Doyle stood, stretched, and went for his day clothes, hastily changing out of the cotton shorts and 'ZAFT ROTC' Tee that probably was twenty years old and belonged to Hyosuke, judging from how the 'A' was faded out of existence, along with half of the 'R'.

"Yeah." He nodded, changing as well, into something presentable as a well-to-do foreign national, but completely generic as well. "I have to settle my finances and talk to the immigration office today. I also want to talk to Mimura-san before he goes out."

"You've got issues with the military or something?" Doyle asked suspiciously. "I had one or two things to talk about…you know, they _do_ pay well…but I wasn't serious."

"Actually, I just wanted to ask some questions. Most of them don't have to do with the military, I just figured Mimura-san would know better than Kunio." The younger man explained in blasé manner, slipping his dark green sweater over his head. He'd have to get some clothes at the shopping center too, he couldn't well go around wearing his job interview clothing forever.

"Oh." Doyle seemed to accept this at face value and went on with the daily ritual of waking, getting out of the room to go and refresh himself for the morning.

Nagisa observed himself in the full-length mirror casually, looking at his fair-skinned, dark-haired features, his close-set eyes and narrow chin. Something began to form in his mind, a small idea that initially seemed trivial and inconsequential, but was quickly becoming something he realized may be very important in the coming days and weeks. He needed to start fitting in, becoming one with his surroundings, if he was to continue living a remotely normal existence. That meant living, breathing, speaking, and acting as if he were a member of PLANT, and all that implied.

At his core, Saito Nagisa didn't feel as if he were 'betraying' Orb or his erstwhile countrymen. To say the least, young citizens of Orb hardly felt the burning patriotism of people in PLANT, Earth, and the Moon. That could be said doubly of the young men and women who'd inhabited Heliopolis; the sense of 'nationality' was very weak in a nation which was comprised almost entirely of racial minorities—no one single race was dominant in the demographics. With so inhomogeneous a population, one was hard-pressed to find glue for social cohesion. He imagined things were better off down in the Orb Homeland, near the Asian subcontinent and Australia, but he couldn't be sure—he'd never lived there. Nagisa was a citizen of space, through and through. He'd only been to Earth once, and found he didn't like it all that much. Planetary living, in his opinion, while possessing novelty to him, was quite overrated.

After getting ready for the day, he found Kunio struggling in vain with the automatic coffee machine in the kitchen, looking only slightly more bedraggled than his guests. "_Mo, yameru-n-dayo!"_ he grumbled at the automaton.

"'Morning, Kunio." Nagisa said flatly, pressing two buttons on the machine as he passed. Promptly, the apparatus began spitting scalding-hot coffee into Kunio's mug.

The youngest of the Mimuras stared in bafflement. "How the…"

"I used to own the same model machine. I ended up replacing it." Nagisa explained tiredly, recalling how it had taken three weeks of tinkering to get the machine to work for the first time, and a small war every other morning to keep it running. He eventually bought a filter and thermos, and made his coffee the old-fashioned way. "Trust me, it saves time."

"If you say so…" Kunio smiled weakly and removed his coffee mug in time to greet his father, who emerged from an adjacent hall, already dressed in his ZAFT uniform, rank insignia and all, though the jacket was open, revealing a pastel colored shirt beneath. "Hello boys."

"Good morning," they all echoed, and promptly did the same when Mrs. Mimura appeared as well. They ate food she prepared expertly—surprisingly traditional shiro-miso soup, along with bread and some other items. The food was very good and quite filling, for something so visually light.

Towards the end of the meal, before the Colonel would have to announce his departure for the day, Nagisa decided to speak. He began rather quietly, as was his custom. "Mimura-san, can I ask you a question?"

The patriarch turned in his direction, nodding as he sipped some hot coffee prepared from the same bastard contraption. Nagisa suppressed a grimace. "Of course, Nagisa-kun. What's on your mind?"

Nagisa paused as he considered how to phrase his question, but only briefly. He'd been thinking about it a while. "How is it, being a _ZAFT-gunjin?'_" he inquired, using the Japanese word 'gunjin'—literally, military person—for soldier.

A sudden silence pervaded the dining room due to the unexpected nature of the question. The acquiescent, introspective teenager never before voiced much interest in matters military. In point of fact, Kunio had asked more questions about military life than Nagisa cared to have thought up as of yet. Even Satomi, Kunio's mother, was more involved than the engineering graduate. It seemed an odd avenue for the quiet young man to approach, but nonetheless, the head of the Mimura family did his best to provide a good answer.

Scratching his stubble, Colonel Mimura made a neutral expression. "I would say it's as good a living as any other. Every line of work has its good points and bad points. No sane person enjoys war, but those in the business of conducting it do so to satisfy their personal needs, such as protecting their families, or being servants for the people. It pays more than adequately for the hours you put in, and trains you very thoroughly for a post-military career too."

Kunio spoke up before Nagisa could raise another question. "Since you left, Nagisa, I considered the military too. They offer a lot of help with post-graduate work, and there's also what Dad just said. There's important work to be done, even if some of us disagree about how to do it. We'd all be in deep trouble without ZAFT, even I'll admit to that."

Nagisa nodded slowly, taking the information in bit by bit. He finished some tea, and sighed.

Mrs. Mimura looked across the table at him with her soft brown eyes, radiating something approaching motherly warmth. "Why you, of all people, Nagisa-kun, are you asking about the military? You're what I'd imagine is the _opposite_ of military, like day and night."

"It's an interesting thing." Hyosuke rumbled. "I'd say that yesterday got him thinking. Why now?"

The surviving Saito rested his chin in his palm lightly, frowning. "I guess it's because I'm upset over Heliopolis—and what happened before too—and I think that people should try and _stop_ what's going on. I don't really know. Maybe there's more merit in soldiering than I previously thought."

The colonel fixed him with a serious stare, one that was no doubt calculating possibilities behind possibilities. There was something about the gaze that Nagisa couldn't put his finger on, as if there lurked a certain amount of danger there, depending on how he answered. "Are you considering becoming a soldier, Nagisa-kun?"

"I…" Nagisa stammered, but was interrupted.

Kunio shook his head. "It's not that surprising, Dad. I was waiting for an opportunity to say this, so I guess this is as good a time as any." All eyes shifted to Kunio, and Nagisa was secretly thankful for the temporary reprieve. Kunio's father eyed his son intently, waiting for whatever it was he had to say. "I am going to join ZAFT."

Startled gasps filled the room, and even Nagisa couldn't help drawing his breath in sharply, as if recovering from a punch to the solar plexus. When he looked around the table, he caught glimpses of varying levels of surprise. Kunio's mother was aghast, her hand near her chest, while the elder Mimura's eyes were wide. Doyle seemed somewhat caught off-guard, but there was a gleam to his eyes that suggested he knew something was up before that moment, possibly for a long time.

"So am I." Doyle echoed, confirming Nagisa's gut feeling about Lyles' reaction. The way he said it was very strong, very determined. "We talked about it for the last few weeks, and this last bit with the Earth making mobile suits is getting on my nerves."

_When it rains, it pours…_Nagisa thought jadedly, at a loss. He imagined that Mrs. Mimura felt about the same way. He'd not imagined his friends as being ones to join the armed forces, but then again, if he considered them objectively, they _shouldn't_ have been such surprising choices for enlistment. Both were young, able, and intelligent, even by Coordinator standards. Both came from strong families, and exhibited normal amounts of aggression, but also were keenly understanding of politics, and pretty vocal. It seemed now only natural that they wanted to help shape the future they would live in. Nagisa felt somehow ashamed of himself for misjudging his friends. It was stunning to realize that he hadn't seen that in them to begin with.

"Are you sure, Kunio-chan?" Satomi asked, leaning forward a little bit. She was definitely concerned, Nagisa noted, judging by her tone and how she let –chan slip into her phrase.

"I am." Kunio said resolutely, and then turned to Nagisa. "Sorry to keep the wool over your eyes, man. I meant to tell you sometime before I said it to everyone else, but your question kind of made up my mind for me…"

"Damn…" Nagisa mouthed absently, shaking his head. Though…what he said made sense. There was a definite need for people who would serve the people, and serve a greater good as a result. Was that why most people enlisted, risked their lives for others? Nagisa couldn't bring himself to believe that it was just good pay and benefits that lured people into enlisting in the armed forces. He didn't want to believe that; it would mean that people didn't have heart, didn't have beliefs. "That's just…so hard to believe…you know…you guys might get killed."

"Yeah." Doyle said with a sardonic smirk. "But we might get killed anyways. Remember the Valentine of Blood? No one is safe—Coordinator or Natural—until this war is _over._ Nothing's holy anymore. You said it yourself, Nagi."

"I guess so…" Nagisa trailed off distantly. Instead of reproach for friends that seemed to have betrayed their own teachings, he was filled with concern. He practically grew up around Lyles and Kunio, he didn't want to see them get hurt or killed. Not if he could do something about it, at least. "There's no way you'd reconsider, I know you two too well. I only wish I could help somehow."

"Hmmm…" Mr. Mimura's baritone resonated, as he considered something as of yet unknown. Nagisa caught him closing his eyes and folding his hands, striking a contemplative pose. An infinite amount of time appeared to pass before anyone said anything, until the colonel smiled. "You three make me proud, you know. You all believe in something, which sometimes is the most important thing of all. That makes me very proud, of family and friends."

"Thanks." The trio said in unison, unable to suppress smiles of their own. It felt good to know that someone as accomplished and respected as Mr. Mimura had praised them.

"Kunio I sort of expected, Doyle-kun…that doesn't surprise me." Mimura added thoughtfully, then extending a finger in Nagisa's direction. "But Saito Nagisa-kun, what of you? What are _you_ going to do? It looks almost as if you want to do something, but can't."

In face of such direct questioning, the normally nonchalant and easygoing Saito couldn't lie or retract his leading statements. He swallowed reflexively. "I _can't_ do anything, Mimura-san. At least not for what I believe in."

"And what is it you believe in, young man?" Kunio's father pressured. "I'd like to know." His eyes blazed as he stared directly at the eighteen-year old.

Nagisa met his gaze, feeling inside him a rising tide of determination brought up solely because of the impotence of his own situation. Tossed about by the winds of battle, to drift onto foreign shores, where he was treated like family, to be unable to do what he believed in, or protect his friends. It made him almost sick, to see so many people suffering, dispossessed of more than just house and home. What _he_ lost he could replace; what others had lost could never be returned to their grieving hearts.

"I believe in defending those people I have around me. I believe in peace, even if it means fighting to protect it, even when those people I want to defend are supposedly 'not my own kind'." He almost spat the last four words out onto the table for all to see, specimens of a foreign language of mutual distrust and bigotry. Though he personally had no care for the distinction between _Natural_ and _Coordinator_, viewing them both as _human_, the fact that others _did_, and wanted to kill because of it, made him angry. "I want to defend the people I love, even if some people might think it's wrong to care about them."

He glanced about when he was finished, stunned at the forcefulness of his own words. Had that been hiding in him all along, that vehemence and drive? It made him want to smile despite himself. When he saw the others, he detected pride, surprise, and satisfaction, not the least of which came from the Colonel.

The man said, "A most noble belief, one I wouldn't have thought possible for someone so quiet. Nonetheless, noble. You would defend _us,_ Coordinators, at the cost of being seen as a traitor to your own people?"

Nagisa nodded. "The line between peoples is one the heart should draw, not blood. When I lost my parents, first my father then my mother, you took me in, under your wing. I would be more than just a prodigal son not to want to defend you and the rest of your family and my friends."

"_That_," Kunio said with a happy, satisfied laugh, "is something I _would_ expect from you, Nagi. I think I gained more than you did, then. Lyles and I gained a brother."

"Hmm.:" Mimura was speculative for yet another moment, during which he closed his eyes. Then, "You know, I was only joking when we spoke of a Natural in a ZAFT uniform, but...I think I can make that happen. Do you want to fight, Nagisa, alongside my son and Lyles? To become a soldier of ZAFT?"

All eyes turned to Nagisa, and he was given pause, but it was so short, no one noticed, as he set his jaw. "Yes, sir. I want to fight and protect my new home and my friends. I don't care who stands in the way, Natural or Coordinator."

"The enemy of peace is your enemy then," Satomi said with a poetic touch, smiling faintly. "That is a difficult role in life, Nagisa-kun."

"I can do a few things that will get you where you need to be. However," The colonel stopped momentarily to gaze at each of the potential recruits. "No one must know that you are a Natural. It would cause too many problems. Only some will know, and they'll be ineffectual."

"How?" Nagisa asked suddenly.

Mimura smiled with unabashed sincerity. "If you really want this, then Satomi and I can adopt you. Your birth certificate will be changed—there'll be no reason for anyone to suspect you _weren't_ born a Coordinator."

"Honey," Satomi whispered, "Are you sure about this?"

The man nodded sternly. "Very. I wanted to adopt Nagisa-kun anyways. He deserves family, and this way, we give him the opportunity he needs. Whether or not he prevails, is in _his _hands."

"They'll know…" Doyle said with a frown, "If you decide to pilot a mobile suit. I hear that Naturals can't do it yet, or that the OS they've used so far is dumb as hell."

The Colonel looked crossly at Doyle. "You're not supposed to know that."

Lyles shrugged emphatically. "I came across the information in passing. Wasn't snooping, someone's leaking."

"In any case, Lyles has a point." Kunio said sagely from his corner. "You'll need to work hard to find a way to pilot, because that's the most likely assignment you'll get—we don't have much in the way of infantry, I hear. We'll all probably be assigned as mobile suit pilots or something like that."

The colonel confirmed this with a dip of his head. "He's right. I can probably sneak you a copy of a GiNN's OS—can you re-engineer it so you can pilot it?"

"Father, that's—" Kunio was cut short by Hyosuke's deep laugh.

"Treason?" He asked with a smile. "Yes. It is, giving our OS to a Natural…but, he'll be enlisted, and a PLANT citizen. I don't see any treason _there."_

The fact that it was merely a clever ruse was evident to Kunio, but he trusted his father enough to know that he would find some way to get away with it. A few, long seconds passed.

"It may be possible…" Nagisa said carefully, thinking. He was good at computer science and programming as well as engineering—the two went hand in hand. It would _definitely_ be a challenge, but he had his friends to help as well. He would at least have a month, he figured; time enough for trial and error, if it came to that. "I can try, at the very least."

"It's settled then." Mr. Mimura rose to his feet. "I have to get to the Government Terminus, but I'll arrange for the adoption papers. You two," he pointed to his son and Lyles, "You'll enlist as soon as I get Nagisa-kun's papers straightened out. You watch out for him, and he'll do the same for you. No one else hears of this, understood?"

"Yes, sir." The two replied, almost saluting already.

With that, the patriarch left the house only moments afterward, leaving the trio to prepare themselves for the day ahead, which would be interesting and different for each. The air in the house was a little tense, but Mrs. Mimura assured them that she was very happy that they'd all taken direction in their lives, even if it wasn't the direction she wanted for the three young would-be soldiers.


	2. Departure of the Innocent

**Author's Notes: ** I'd like to apologize for not updating this as fast as I promised. The chapter was long finished, but it was more a matter of actually getting around to doing fanfic related stuff and updating. Not like anyone reads this anyways. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **_Kido Senshi Gundam SEED _is the property of Bandai Co. and its American subsidiary companies, as well as that of Tomino Yoshiyuki & SUNRISE.

_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED: Fog of War Phase 2: Departure of the Innocent**_

That day was filled with preparations on all sides. Saito Nagisa navigated corridors of Government Terminus, hitching a ride in Kunio's groundcar—which turned out to be his, his graduation present, instead of his parents'—and spent most of the day in lines. He went into town, got a message patch to a branch bank where his former trust was established, and transferred his account to a new bank based in PLANT's Aprilius 1. His hefty bank account was the result of a trust fund left behind by his parents for him to complete college studies as well as help him on his way to a career. It would be more than enough to continue living off of until he enlisted, it certainly was more than what Nagisa needed when he'd been working as an office tech in Heliopolis' Morgenrater support office.

Wearing a suit he bought at a shopping district, he watched sullenly as the billboard video-news began to inform him and the other pedestrians of the day's events. Among them was Siegel Klein's daughter's impending memorial for the Junius 7 colony, which was now drifting in a stable Earth orbit, resting in millions of pieces, a sad irony not lost on the young Saito. Ms. Klein didn't seem fazed that Junius 7's remains were now in 'enemy territory'.

All the while, he noted that most people went about their lives as if nothing was wrong. Of course, there was some anxiety, all to be expected, but for the most part, life was tranquil and normal, and the overwhelming majorities were more focused on their work than they were on outside affairs. He knew it hadn't always been that way, and he vividly recalled watching clips of people with protest slogans such as 'Kill the patch worker', "Death to All Coordinators', 'for a blue and pure world' and the like. He pushed those thoughts away and focused on the job at hand, which was currently finding mass transit back to the Mimura house—_his_ house.

Without exception, people treated him quite kindly. They were all very normal, accommodating, and exceedingly polite. Saito was well aware that they didn't even suspect that he wasn't one of 'them', and he didn't try to personally make the distinction that _they_ were 'them', so to speak. Gradually, he was allowing his prior laissez-faire mentality to return.

When he got home, he found the legal papers waiting for him. As he was eighteen, and over majority by PLANT law, he needed to sign the papers as well, giving 'permission' for Mimura Hyosuke and Mimura Satomi to adopt him. It was an unusual, but not _unheard of_ practice. As soon as the papers were filed, his legal name would changed to Mimura Nagisa, born in Aprilius 1 space colony. That same week he had a notarized copy of his new birth certificate. Now he was legitimate. There was only one issue now, and it was the most precarious of all.

True to his word, Hyosuke produced the ZAFT mobile suit OS—taken from a ZGMF-1017 GiNN—conveniently stored on a high-density data disc, ready for cracking and breaking. This was the job that would occupy him now, as he spent the next week and a half—with Hyosuke, Kunio, and Lyles looking in on him for occasional assistance—trying to piece together an operating system that he could use as well as any Coordinator could use the standard OS. It proved as daunting a task as he could have imagined, but thankfully no more so than it _could_ have been. He was satisfied that he could probably achieve his goal.

Sitting at the computer terminal arranged for him in what once was the guest room but now was his bedroom, the would-be pilot smiled at his own fuzzy reflection in the darkened LCD screen. It was almost two weeks now, and Kunio and Lyles had settled their affairs, ready to enlist with ZAFT. News had gotten to him that Rakusu Klein went missing some days before, when she went with a civilian ship, the _Silverwind_, to visit Junius 7. Somehow, Nagisa wasn't surprised that something like that transpired; it was the reason he hadn't opted to go find transport to Earth's surface, and by extension, the Orb Homeland. He much rather preferred to be in control of his own destiny, as opposed to little more than a moving target for both sides of the conflict.

It was almost nightfall, and the house was quiet. Even Nagisa didn't stir now, his task completed after many a sleepless night. With the aid of his friends, he was able to put it together, though they didn't know quite yet. They would soon enough, and he was in no real hurry to announce it; Kunio knew where to find him.

There were a lot of things on his mind, the least of which was that soon he would be training to become a soldier, to go out and fight a war. The reality of it seemed so close at hand, yet in a sense utterly distant and hard to take. But it was a decision _he _made, one he could be proud of, or at the very least say he had the guts to do. There came a certain pleasure with taking charge of one's own existence, and Nagisa felt it was far too long since he'd experienced that sensation of self-possession and direction. There was also the issue of his new family, but that was almost secondary; he was used to Kunio and his mother, and felt a great deal of respect for Mr. Mimura, his new 'father'. There was no reason he should have felt out of place, and so he didn't. To him, looking back on the recent change, it appeared as a matter of course, though he didn't dare take it for granted.

As if on cue, there was a soft knock at the door to his sparsely furnished bedroom. The room was spartan not because of ill hospitality, but rather because Nagisa was accustomed to living simply. Anything extravagant was really beyond him now, even though he grew up in an affluent environment. Sometimes, Saito would wonder if it was because of his upbringing that he shunned amenities. Even his clothing was of an unsophisticated cut and style. It could have been said that he did the absolute minimum to maintain appearances, to pass for what he was supposed to be. Now that he was supposed to be something he _wasn't_ though, his views on that had changed.

"It's open, come on in." The young man uttered, leaning back in the chair.

Into the quiet room stepped Kunio and his father, both of whom seemed rather intense at the moment. He had a clue as to _why, _but he didn't press it. If there was something they wanted to say or reveal, they would in due time. The younger of the two came to stand at the side of the desk and gave him a nod.

"Taking a break? You've been at it for days." Kunio said worriedly, his haphazard mop of dark brown and black hair bobbing with every word.

"Actually," Nagisa offered a small, tentative smile. "I'm done."

He couldn't see him without looking over his shoulder, but Nagisa imagined the Colonel was lifting an eyebrow or something to that extent. "That was fast work. Are you sure it will work?"

"I won't be sure until it comes time to pop the new OS into an MS and take it for a spin." He warned at length, backing the chair up so he could look at both his adoptive brother and father. For once, Hyosuke was wearing civilian clothing. His call to duty had been temporarily postponed, in lieu of a few meetings with the Council, and an impending summons for Admiral La Cruise, who was going to be taken to task for the events in Heliopolis. "But…I'm confident."

"It's definitely an achievement," Hyosuke said with a grunt.

Nagisa shrugged. "Shouldn't be too surprising. It's just a computer program really. I think anyone with the education and background could have put it together, given time. The fact that _I_ put it together doesn't say much."

"I'm not an engineer, but I think Morgenrater would probably disagree." Hyosuke snorted, and he could see Kunio was fairly amused. "They've been having many problems."

"Yes, well, they don't have access to a _working_ OS." Nagisa countered, unwilling to take credit for success. He stood as to stretch his aching legs, knees popping softly. "There isn't really any substantial reason why a Natural can't pilot a mobile suit, so what I did was just modify the existing OS, rewrote its mobile structure a little, and adjusted several variables to compensate for my own shortcomings. I'll be able to refine it in the field as time goes on. Hell, since I know how the system works now, I could probably ad hoc it for a while until I perfect the new OS."

"Though…" Kunio wasn't as optimistic, and it showed in his tone and bearing, as he sat at the edge of the desk. "How are you going to hide it? I don't think they'd ignore that an MS' OS was overwritten when giving it maintenance."

Nagisa grinned. "Thought of that. I'm going to hide it in the computer core, the way old computers could run two different household OS systems. An MS' OS is actually somewhat _smaller_ in size, so I can probably ditch it, run it on start-up right from the second time I use it. When the techs boot it up, they'll just get the normal system."

"Old tricks are the best tricks." Kunio confirmed with a nod. As a fellow engineering and computer science student, he knew his own fair share of old gimmicks. By his estimation, Nagisa was definitely on the money. Since no one would be looking for that sort of problem, no one would bother to check for amateur ruses. He likened it to how politicians sometimes admit to small trespasses to build trust while they backstab the people with _bigger_ trespasses, but he didn't say that aloud. The young coordinator knew better than that.

"So." Nagisa crossed his arms, looking at Kunio and his father, a more sober note to his voice, "Tomorrow."

"Yeah. Hard to believe, isn't it?" Kunio looked skyward wistfully. He honestly didn't want to be in the military, but he felt it was his responsibility now, not only to uphold tradition, but also to do something about the situation. He'd complained and bellyached until now about the war, and realized that unless he took a place in the ranks, he was somewhat unable to offer any relevant criticism or effect change. Sure, a grunt MS pilot couldn't do much, but as things were turning out, every bit helped. "Lyles is ready too."

"Good," said Mimura Hyosuke, still standing. He put a hand on each teen's shoulder, smiling broadly. He wasn't without worry; no parent _wanted_ to see their children go off to war, but Satoshi was already fighting, and it seemed to him to be a matter of time before his youngest son fell in too. It made him proud, to know that his two sons—no, _three_ sons, he reminded himself ruefully—were turning out to be stewards of power for the people, an idea impressed upon him by his own father, so many years before. As a third-generation Coordinator, he knew better than most the importance of tradition and ideals. In turn, he also knew the limits they had. "Try and come back in one piece. I'll put in my word with Personnel and Command to see that you boys get a good assignment and CO. But it will depend on you to prove yourselves during training."

The two young men were in agreement with their patriarch, much more somber than before. They didn't dare let their pent up frustration and enthusiasm to go forward show; no, they would save that.

_We'll save it for the enemy, _thought Nagisa sordidly, taken by his own initiative and ardor. _And send a message they won't soon forget_.

There's an old saying amongst those who've dealt with warfare and politics, an oftentimes _controversial_ expression, but one which has rang true more often than not: the more you fight and more you kill, the more fighters and killers you create to take their place.

In the wake of the Bloody Valentine and Heliopolis, the same could be said about Lyles Doyle, Mimura Kunio, and the erstwhile Saito—Mimura—Nagisa.

The next day the trio met in the residential district, for a last hurrah of civilian life before becoming full-time soldiers-in-training. It wasn't anything extravagant, but they would remember it for the company they kept. Though they didn't talk about it, there was a distinct possibility that one or none of them might not make it back to living the good life of a well-to-do civilian. That didn't stop them or dampen their enthusiasm though. With pure hearts full of hope for the future, of eagerness to make a difference, they were already willing to pay the ultimate price. However, they didn't want to dwell on that, so instead they passed each other conspirators' glances as they stole looks at some girls their age, walking about the malls, or just going about their daily lives. None of them had girlfriends to say goodbye to, and truth be told, they were privately glad. There would be no shed tears for the three as they marched off to the beat of ZAFT's unseen drummer-boy, save for those of one Mimura Satomi, who, in her heart of hearts, felt that she was losing yet more children to the fracas that was human nature. But she was proud, no doubt. They all were.

Standing about, loitering in front of a café, they sipped some drinks in the overcast day, not far from the 'downtown' section of this end of the colony. With travel bags with meager personal belongings now packed, ready for barracks life, they exchanged jokes, jibes, and juvenile ideas about life, still reveling in their age; Kunio and Nagisa were eighteen, and Doyle, the 'senior' of the group a ripe twenty-one.

Because Doyle just _had _to, they found a public computer kiosk to check for any updates about Rakusu Klein. There was a brief blurb that the military was going to investigate, but of course no details were released. They all assumed Asuran Zara, the raven-haired ace and 'hero' of PLANT would find her, somehow. Nagisa was unconcerned; it wasn't his issue. He never quite understood people and their obsession for the famous and powerful. The problem he felt with them was that they were all too human, Coordinators notwithstanding.

As they walked to Government Terminus, each reflected on their reasons for going to enlist. Why do people join the ZAFT military? Probably for the same reasons people have been enlisting for service since the time of the great Mesopotamian, Roman, Japanese, Chinese, and Greek armies: adventure, patriotism, pay, and the opportunity to make one's name and living. It was a prospect for seeing the world, for getting to know new and strange places, and to take the fight to those who would to the same to them. Looking back on it at the end of their training, they would probably admit to themselves the naiveté of their decision to enlist, but likely not regret it.

The rate of enlistment in the youth bracket of sixteen to twenty-two was rather astounding in the case of the PLANT colonies. With a very low birthrate, and a smaller population than the Earth by far, it meant that a disproportionate amount of Coordinator youth was becoming integrated into the military's command structure. The numbers were twenty-five percent—fully a quarter—of that category, if not _more._ Indeed, trying times seemed to bring out the best and worst in people of all sorts, so the recruiting officer downtown was hardly surprised to see the three young men, who'd called ahead for an appointment and interview, each processed separately by a different recruiter.

"Name?" The male recruiter asked, someone about Doyle's age, a man of indeterminate race.

"Mimura, Kunio Toshiro." Kunio said confidently, enunciating each syllable properly as best he could.

"Date of birth?"

"One-fourteen-fifty-two." He was almost on autopilot, and he knew that the recruiter was probably satisfied that his replies were as spitfire as the questions.

In another room, Lyles swallowed, an inkling of what lay ahead hitting home once again, not for the first time that day. The recruiter—a girl—kept a neutral face. "Blood type?"

"B positive." He answered coolly. To distract himself from the sudden, unwarranted butterflies in his stomach, he focused on the young woman's pretty face. _She's not half bad…_he thought with amusement.

"Place of birth?" Another recruiter, also a woman, asked Nagisa.

Nagisa didn't hesitate, having practiced his responses many times, with his adoptive father himself drilling him. "Aprilius 1."

"Mother's maiden name?"

He had to think hard to remember that—he sometimes forgot his birth mother's maiden name—but the answer came in a naturally short interval. "Kikawa."

"Alright. Your identity and enlistment information matches the information in the filed application. You'll proceed this evening to this building later for swearing in and transport to training facilities." The young woman—a Private, Second Class, said sharply, staring him down with her wonderfully pale green eyes. She extended a hand. "Welcome to the Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty's Armed Forces, Cadet Mimura."

With genuine happiness and satisfaction, he shook the Private's hand, and was surprised that the girl pumped it confidently. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She waggled her head politely. "By the way, you're allowed one small duffel's worth of personal items not including toiletries and a change of civilian clothes. Don't be late, trust me, they _hate_ late recruits."

Nagisa raised an eyebrow, but didn't debate the issue. He thanked the woman again and exited the booth. He was met promptly by Lyles, and after a moment, Kunio. They each smiled, unable to form words to accurately describe their feelings, and went for the door. As they still had some time to kill, they ate some lunch, got caught a movie—a cheesy anime movie which didn't live up to the series which spawned it—and generally caroused until the appointed time came.

On the way, Lyles sighed contentedly. "I'm beginning to like military life already! Did you _see_ that girl in my booth?"

"Here we go…" Kunio muttered with exasperation, though kind of glad things had a tint of normalcy still. If Lyles was still capable of ogling the opposite gender with any gusto, then they were still safe and sound.

"The private who interviewed me wasn't bad looking." Nagisa said after consideration.

Lyles put an arm around his friend, ruffling Kunio's hair. "What about you, Kun-kun?"

How he _despised_ that nickname! Well, he figured, it was just one more link to his real life. "Mine was a _guy._"

The other Mimura laughed raucously, getting damned near a cough. "Poor Kun-kun."

"Oh shut up, Old Man!"

For all their debauchery, the three recruits were more than happy to be in each other's company. They wanted very much to be assigned to the same detail once training was complete, but knew that they shouldn't be surprised if that didn't happen. Kunio, who was sometimes their de facto leader, told them as much, when he inquired about the issue with the Colonel. But it was good to be in high spirits before basic training, it would give them all the more energy to take on their tasks with. It was no surprise then, when they turned up again at the recruiting office—which was actually just a Defense Committee sub office—in the auditorium for swearing in with all the glee of kids on a spending spree. Both Kunio and Doyle had blown a stupendous amount of money on good snacks and drinks the last couple of days, figuring that they wouldn't get much chance to spend their money once their lives as soldiers began. Nagisa spent his money on portable electronics.

They fell in with the other new recruits, an assorted bunch that reflected a wide-cross section of Aprilius 1's inhabitants, but none of them seemed much older than Lyles, something much to be expected. The military didn't often attract career-changers, instead picking up the human flotsam colleges and high schools generated when they graduated their students. There were both men and women, no more really than boys and girls, in an almost equal number. They talked amongst themselves animatedly, all probably feeling the same high as the three recent arrivals into the auditorium. Their banter died down however, when a military officer appeared on the elevated stage, walking in with loud footsteps.

He wasn't very imposing, considering he was a naval officer, but his uniform spoke volumes. He wore the same royal purple and black outfit of ZAFT's commander-ratings, and his boots fairly shone, glinting in the strong lighting of the auditorium. He was probably about forty, give or take a few years, and looked of western descent.

"Atten-SHUN! Recruits, listen up!" He barked, his voice surprisingly strong. If all eyes weren't on him before, they were now, and Nagisa was transfixed by the commanding aura the officer produced almost at will. Both he and his two buddies stood even taller, even more rigid than before. "I'm Commander Jeffery Gates, and I'll be overseeing you until you begin Basic Training. You're all here because you filled out an application of enlistment. Now, since all of you have met the prerequisites for that enlistment, I'll administer to you its Oath."

About forty young men and women focused in on him, and were guided through the verbal Oath, in English, and repeated after Commander Gates.

"I do solemnly swear," the commander intoned, after instructing the recruits to raise their right hand. "To uphold and defend the Constitution of the PLANT Colonies,"

"…Constitution of the PLANT colonies…" Kunio was droned, his mind less on the ritualistic oath than on what it _meant._ His father had taken the same oath over twenty years before, and now was a seasoned Colonel responsible for the oversight of an entire task force. He burned with pride.

"…As a member of the Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty," Doyle, not to be outdone, kept his voice loud and clear, in his native English, speaking without the slight accents his two friends possessed. Idly, Lyles Doyle wondered how people on the other side of the conflict did this. Did they do the same little song and dance, dog-and-pony show as ZAFT?

For Mimura Nagisa, this oath had special meaning perhaps beyond that of his companions. To him, it was almost like how someone might feel fulfillment with taking an oath as a citizen of a new home—something he was unable to do. While adoption implied citizenship, it didn't require him to take such an oath. "To abide by its code of military justice, and defend the Colonies from all threats both foreign and domestic."

There was a brief silence as Commander Gates, weathered face and all, stared at the motley bunch of recruits. He reminded himself that even Admiral La Cruise received the same treatment, and once was a civilian, same for Patrick Zara. With a nod, he announced, "Congratulations, you are now all enlisted Cadets with the ZAFT Forces.

"I'll now brief you on what's going to happen to you. As you all know, indubitably, we're fighting a war." The commander's tone was slightly strained, despite his conditioning. "We might lose that war, or we might yet survive. But what we _do_ know is that we're in a war for survival. The Naturals didn't know what they unleashed, but they're sure going to pay for it. We won't roll over and die."

At that, Nagisa subconsciously flinched, but apparently no one had taken notice to his adverse reaction to the reference to his 'kind'. Passively, he listened to this briefing, which for the moment sounded more like a tirade or a rally.

"As such, training time has been reduced drastically as compared to our peace-time basic training timetable. You'll learn and do in one month what we used to do to you in _six._" He said without feeling an ounce of pity for them, and it showed. "Most of you will become either ship's crew, mechanics, or mobile suit pilots. Some of you'll become Fleet security—Marines—but only the very best of you will be inducted into our Mobile Weapons Corps. Still others will be assigned noncombat duties that are still essential to the logistical operation of our Armed Forces. Under Chairman Klein, we've been receiving less and less funding, so that means we'll have to do more with less."

_So he _is_ a pacifist, _Nagisa thought momentarily. He didn't know too much about Chairman Siegel Klein, but what he _did_ know he found quite admirable about the elder statesman.

"At 1800 hours, you'll proceed with me to the _Lancaster, _a shuttle which will take you to our training facilities at Boaz. There, at Space Fortress Boaz, you'll be pretty close to the front lines while still in a training environment. I hope you've eaten already, because as a night flight, this shuttle has no meals, kiddies." This amused Gates, and he grinned accordingly. "Our transit time will be a few hours, enough to catch some shut-eye before we arrive at Boaz. Any questions?"

A tentative hand was raised in a far end of the room, and Nagisa had to crane his neck about to catch a glimpse of the speaker. At a nod from Gates, he asked, "How will we be sorted into our specialties?"

Commander Gates grunted. He nominally asked for questions, he didn't particularly like dishing out answers, but this one was at least educated. "You all filled out the enlistment application, and circled one of our divisions. You'll each be tested for admittance into the proper training programs. If we see you're better for something _else_, we'll just throw you in where we need you, no questions asked."

That seemed to sober some people up, as they realized that the ZAFT Military was now very much in control of nearly every aspect of their lives. They would live where they were told, eat when they were told, and fight and die in the battles they were ordered to. The prospect, to some, was undeniably daunting. Nagisa swallowed, but surprisingly, was completely unafraid. He _asked_ for this. It would be his baptism of fire into PLANT society, proving his worth as a protector. He had no qualms with following orders. He imagined Kunio felt the same on that last bit; Colonel Mimura wasn't an easy man to be a son to, and already Nagisa could feel the weight of expectations settling on his narrow shoulders.

"If that's it, then, Dis-MISSED!"

Right on schedule, they went up the Terminus and boarded the _Lancaster_ and after about half an hour of flight delays, set out for Boaz with a few other ships in a fleet group as escort, all with some business or reassignment at Boaz in mind. Alongside them flew at least one Nazca-class ship, its avocado-green hull illuminated by powerful running lights.

The shuttle was four seats deep on either side, so Kunio, Nagisa, and Lyles were able to sit together, along with a comely young brunette of mixed heritage named Suzuka Hayes-Sato. She sat at the end of the row, on the aisle side, and strapped in along with the three boys, proceeded to introduce herself and get acquainted with her new traveling companions.

Doyle, of course, was fast on the uptake, but kept his flattery to an unexpected minimum. Through mutual disclosure, they discovered that Suzuka was a Biology student that couldn't find much work, and her parents suggested she enlist. She was of an average background, and lived in the PLANTs all her years. The farthest out she'd been was the Moon colony, but that was only once.

Somewhat short and thin, with wavy dark brown hair pulled into twin tails, one on each side of her oval head, and striking gray eyes, she was also, of course, a Coordinator, second generation. With such a frame, she also had considerably small, slender hands. Suzuka wanted to be a logistics operations officer, a noncombat role that would guarantee good pay and relative safety, but she would do what she was asked to.

"What about you guys?" she asked in a mellow voice.

"Mobile suit pilots." The three announced in unison, and then looked at each other quizzically, before their bemusement was replaced with smirks. They would have to start learning how to answer questions separately, Doyle thought with a snort, but for now this was just fine.

The flight went by with unstoppable monotony. No one threatened the flight of dark olive-gray GiNNs that led the vanguard of the small flotilla, and there weren't any announcements over the intercom. Before long, most of the recruits and other passengers had fallen asleep, unable to do much else besides sit and look out the window to the vast emptiness of space. None of them were really fazed by the state of zero gravity within the cabin, and no one lost their supper in it either. They were space-dwellers, through and through, used to the rigors of living in a colony environment, even if null g was a rarity for some.

Nagisa felt briefly as if this were a junior high or high school class trip, sitting next to his two friends, his head leaned up against the thick Plexiglas polymer of the shuttle window. Outside, a tender ship drifted off their flank, assuming a different position soundlessly as the fleet adjusted course. Eventually, he too fell asleep.

Nagisa awoke to the sound of the ship's intercom blaring out that they were about to dock with Boaz station, and the usual spiel about keeping seated and strapped in until a full halt etcetera etcetera droned on. He spared a look to Kunio, who was sitting between him and Doyle, and then to Doyle and Suzuka, who were already having a conversation about pop culture.

When they docked, Commander Gates spoke up at the head of the cabin, his parade ground voice easily reaching even to the back, and waking not a few new cadets. "Attention, cadets. We're here at Boaz. I'll be leaving you here, but your instructors will pick you up for orientation at the military spaceport and base. We'll be offloaded by tube to the deck, so you don't have to worry if you're no good at zero-g maneuvers. That comes with training. So, to all of you, good luck and Godspeed."

As said, they were met by their first drill instructor, a stout man by the name of Gunnery Sergeant Jean-Luis Latour. They were taken to the base's cafeteria—mess hall, they learned, in military jargon—and given their identification cards and chits, as well as provided the evenly gray jumpsuits of ZAFT training recruits. Military food, as Nagisa discovered, was pretty low-rung stuff, even for PLANT, but he would live, and the sight of Kunio and Doyle wolfing down their food was encouraging enough. That was how their basic training began: uniforms, a quick instruction on the rather idiosyncratic ZAFT salute, brief orientation, and bad food.

The next month was spent in intense study and training. True to his word, Commander Gates' ZAFT propelled the recruits through an unrelenting battery of tests, courses, and exercises, physical, mental, and military. They learned basic military tactics, history, lexicography, and military justice, the laws they were all answerable to. The hours were long, and they were pulling sixteen-hour days most days, sometimes _longer._ Even the energetic Doyle soon grew a little worn, and by the end of the first 'determination' week, was already feeling jaded.

Kunio excelled in his training, doing well in marksmanship, academic learning, and drills. In one way or another, Nagisa believed his success could be ascribed to the presence of a military tradition in his family, something that Kunio was probably very much used to by this late date. For _him_ though, it took a little bit of getting-used to and catching up to become accustomed to the 'hurry-up and wait' pace of military life and training. Of course, every free hour he worked on refining his OS.

At the end of the first week, Gunny Latour announced to them their preliminary scores and specialization designations. Kunio, with so far an exemplary performance in the first seven, overloaded days, was given the choice of Officer Training/Strategic Operations and Planning or Mobile Weapons. The choice was a no-brainer. Doyle qualified for the latter singularly, with no other outstanding merits, not counting a stern look from their D.I., and surprisingly, Cadet Hayes-Sato qualified for Fleet Security and Mobile Weapons.

"Not my cup of tea," she said lowly to Nagisa and the others, staring at the printout in her hands, which listed her preliminary aptitude scores, "but better than Transport Piloting." Reluctantly, she took Mobile Weapons, feeling that she _definitely_ didn't want to become an infantrywoman.

"Mimura! The other one!" Gunnery Sergeant 'Tour de force' Latour shouted over the growing din, quickly becoming irritated at the noise. When the requested Cadet came up, he handed the young man his printout. He had a good opinion of Mimura Kunio's brother, Nagisa. He wasn't the most talented out there, by his standards, a mediocre kid in his estimation, but he had drive and guts, and was absolutely brilliant in the two things he was good with: computers and machines. He nodded to the teen. "Good work, Mimura."

Nagisa saluted, touching his fingers to his right temple vertically, as opposed to horizontally, the way other military forces saluted. He drifted away in the training hall towards his small cadre of friends in the recruiting squad. Opening the printout, he didn't even look. He _couldn't_ look. It was like getting into college all over again. He pressed it into Lyles' hands. "Lyles, read it to me."

"Jittery, Nagisa?" the older one asked, leaning against the wall.

Nagisa nodded. "A little, yeah."

"You did fine," Kunio assured, standing erect on the deck. "You had _us_ to help you!" He laughed a little, but then, with more seriousness, amended himself. "No, really. You're fine."

Taking this as his cue, Lyles unfolded the printout, brushed a golden bang away, and read aloud, in an obviously contrived tone. "Here be your dreadful future, Cadet Mimura Nagisa: Mechanical Logistics Support."

Both Kunio and Nagisa blanched visibly, as the latter felt the blood go straight to his toes. Mechanical. Logistics. Support. That was just basically fancy lingo for techies and mechanics—something like what he was going to do, but with less glitz and less glamour, since it was a grease-monkey job sometimes. He felt a sudden vertigo that had nothing to do with the lack of gravitational pull in the chamber.

"…And Mobile Weapons." Lyles added before Suzuka and Kunio could try and console their stricken comrade-in-arms. With a mischievous smirk, Lyles reached out and lightly punched the younger man on the shoulder. "Sorry about that. You did good."

"Thanks…" Nagisa said with a half-hearted smile. He reached forward and snatched the printout, reading it for himself. Lyles hadn't been lying; he was indeed double-qualified for both the mechanic program and the mobile suit pilot courses. "What do you know? You were being on the level for once."

"_Oya, oya,_" The elder cadet said with mock disgust. "Such trust in your fellows."

It wasn't long before they were reined-in again. After they were through with the day's training, just before lights-out, Kunio and Lyles addressed their bunkmate, giving him a thorough toasting—even if was with just rations bought from the commissary—and congratulating him on making into the Mobile Weapons division. They were truly happy. Kunio was beside himself, and Lyles was more or less in heightened spirits, something hard to do as compared with his normally jovial mood. What Nagisa and Kunio didn't know was that their senior had been a little worried that the recent addition to the Mimura family wouldn't make it. The testing for the Mobile Weapons program included an examination with a controlled simulator, and the only reason that Nagisa passed was because of his familiarity with the standard ZAFT OS. If not for that, he would have probably failed. Another thing that worked in his favor was that the OS was very much a practical and straightforward thing; even untrained, most students were able to move around and shoot with varying levels of success and failure.

"With any luck," Lyles said, leaning back in his bunk at lights-out, "We'll all be in some GiNNs by the end of the month, on assignment."

Nagisa felt a little ashamed, so he wanted to bring up something else. Though he didn't have much time to speak with her, since they were constantly working towards becoming full-fledged soldiers, Nagisa thought highly of Suzuka Hayes-Sato. "What about that Suzuka, huh? Mobile weapons and _infantry_. Sounds like your kind of girl, Doyle."

"Well, she's as capable as anyone else, looks aside." Lyles murmured in the dark, to which Kunio thumped on the base of the bunk as if to voice agreement. "There's a saying: those who don't use treads, butt heads."

"Whatever," Nagisa grinned, and doused his bunk-mounted reading light. There was one person above him, but their other bunkmate—a young man by the name of Jackt Tungsten, was already K.O'ed. He of course, wasn't in on their secret, so they never mentioned anything about Nagisa's past around their fourth bunkmate. Nagisa, worn to the bone after seven days of rigorous preparations and instruction, fell asleep almost instantly, his lids leaden.

Kunio, on the other hand, wondered if he was making the right decision, going into Mobile Weapons instead of Operations and the route to command without enlisted service. One offered a great opportunity to shape the overall war strategy, but he doubted that he would rise high enough _fast_ enough to make much of a difference in that area. Also, his father had been a mechanized infantryman, before becoming a fleet officer. Mobile Weapons seemed closest to the tradition.

"So be it," he muttered, and shut off his own little light.

The next three weeks saw the three male members of the 'Aprilius Gang' become much stronger, converting gained weight into lean muscle mass, and all of them were much more used to the routine now. Nagisa gained less weight and muscle, as his body was not that of a Coordinator, and he visibly didn't become as big as his two friends. The only consolation on that note was that the other two didn't get much bigger: Doyle had been in near-peak physical condition, and Kunio was, like his legal brother, of Asian descent, and thus didn't tend to get much larger than the average westerner at maximum. Despite the nature of Mobile Weapons, each pilot was required to be able to fight out of their mobile suit, should they get shot down. There was also the issue of dealing with the physical stresses of piloting. As a result, they spent a good amount of time doing 'laps' in the centrifuge, their least favorite activity. Each of them vomited at least once.

Like a coal being compressed by heat and pressure into a diamond, Suzuka only became more striking and breathtaking, even in mere recruit's jumpers. Her legs and arms were toned, and her stomach was very flat. Her gaze wasn't hardened—that only came with experience—but she was becoming a definite top dog. She piloted well, and exhibited good awareness and ability to follow orders.

Kunio was turning into quite the natural leader, and secretly, many of that recruiting squad began to see him as the next 'Asuran' of the ZAFT mobile suit corps. While not of as obviously high blood as Patrick Zara's offspring, Kunio possessed all the marks of success: good test results, strong leadership, great piloting, and steady character and charisma.

Lyles Doyle was becoming noted as a good pilot, but lacked the kind of finesse and polish in his ability that separated the good from the potential aces. However, what he lacked in skill he made up for with raw bravado and poise. If someone needed something taken down, Lyles was intent on doing everything—including hurling cargo containers in one infamous incident, known thereafter as MS Tantrum—to achieve his ends.

That left Nagisa, who, despite previous doubts, was becoming very skilled. The first day was the most frightening though, and really put him through his paces.

The prospective pilots stood in the launch bay of Boaz Station; all clad in the green and black flight suits of the majority of the mobile suit corps. The distinctive red and gray was reserved only for higher ranking and 'ace' pilots. There were twenty of them, and about as many mobile suits already waiting for them.

Their instructor, a man by the name of Li, stood off to the side, hanging onto the gantry railing precariously. This launch bay was reserved for training only, so they didn't have to worry about bumbling into the business end of a fleet cannon while landing and taking off. However that didn't change the fact that Li was secretly afraid of heights, and the bottom looked _very_ far down.

"Flight Recruits," He said with an imperious tone, forgetting the heights, "What you have in front of you is the ZGMF-1017 GiNN Trainer Version. It's almost structurally identical to the ZGMF-1017 GiNN Mass Production Suit, and operates about the same way. We've modified most of it to sense paint rounds and low-light laser fire for scrimmage fighting."

The GiNN, the ubiquitous mobile suit that plagued the Earth Alliance, was more or less a pattern of dark olive-gray, and drab lighter gray, with a couple of splashes of orange on the head fin. A red monoeye camera rested dimly, deactivated on its dark, inset track on the head. Seeing these machines up close—even their training versions—was a bit imposing and awe-inspiring. Nagisa could only imagine what it must be like to be on the receiving end of a GiNN assault wave.

"As the GiNN is our main space mobile suit, you will learn how to pilot it like a natural-born flight-junkie." Li said, patting the rail. He began to float down the line, and to each cadet in the rank, passed out a keycard. "These are your keycards, they allow you access to your GiNN Trainer and log your flight hours. I'll be the one keeping score on your scrimmages. Now, as I hand these, go and find the numbered GiNN that you've been assigned. We'll talk more on the squad net."

Kunio and Nagisa exchanged nervous glances, while Doyle blew a kiss at Suzuka mockingly, which she 'caught' and motioned as if she were jettisoning it out the launch bay. Doyle drifted towards his MS with a look of mock dejection.

Standing at just about twenty-one and a half meters, and weighing in at almost seventy-nine metric tons, the GiNN was a behemoth of a single-pilot vehicle. Vernier thrusters in the back supplied it with maneuvering ability, and an assortment of apogee motors allowed it a wide range of motion. Nagisa took a seat in the chest-housed cockpit compartment, pulling his disc from under his suit's neck section and sealing his helmet, closing the chest compartment in due time.

Looking over the systems, he noted that he'd have to very quickly work before powering up for launch. Thankfully, Flight Instructor Li didn't go through pre-launch with them—by now that routine should have been second nature. This allowed Nagisa to place his disc in the maintenance reader, as he powered up the mobile suit with the push of a button. Instantly, systems came to life.

However, just as they were going to go fully online, he flipped out the onboard keyboard and began typing commands. He'd trained for this moment in his spare time almost as much as he did actual studying. His fingers were rapid and accurate as he followed keystroke with keystroke.

_Reset boot structure, partition memory storage, allow for soft-rewrite activation…_he went through the steps in his mind, as he typed out their commands into the main command-line program of the GiNN's standard OS. Within a few seconds the system suddenly shut down. He'd heard that the enemy pilot of the Strike had reprogrammed the OS of his mobile suit on the spot—all that Nagisa had to do was copy a few files and erase his tracks.

As the screens flared on again, displaying the restart progress under his own homegrown operating system, Nagisa let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in. MS-DOS, as he'd named it, a geeky name, he knew—Mobile Suit Dumbass Operating System—was now loaded. Before he could savor his first victory though, he received an audio/visual feed from the instructor, who was inside of a normal 1017 GiNN painted in light gray commanders' colors.

"Alright people, now that you're all suited up, powered up, and ready to go, let's go out for a spin. Launch by designation numbers, that means Hayes-Sato, you're up." Li said over the comm channel, his rolling language easily understandable, almost inviting.

The linear catapult system was pretty straightforward. All the pilot needed to do was wait for the 'clear' signal, hit a return button, and hang on, as the controller ejected the mobile suit, dragging and pushing it by its feet and back-straps with bodily force. Powered flight wasn't even necessary, though most pilots liked to go out 'hot' with thrusters on full burn. Today, they were going to do a simple launch and get out of the way of the next pilot, and assemble at a rally point on the surface of the asteroid Boaz was bored into.

"Mimura Nagisa, GiNN Trainer," The young man said into his helmet mike, "Launching!" He hit the return button as soon as he got green for launch, and felt his body getting slammed into his seat by accumulated g forces. Within seconds, he was floating outside the asteroid. Now came the moment of truth.

Gripping the two handlebar-like devices that allowed him to move the arms and fire weapons, he tried the system out. First, he lowered his arms, and then, pulling the throttle forward, jetted towards the rally point. He didn't have to wait for his results.

With something of an ungainly trim, the twenty-meter metal giant shot off in the right direction, and he managed to land it on the surface without plowing his head into the rock. A few cautious steps were taken until he was standing beside Doyle and Kunio, identified by markings on his HUD.

"So far, so go…just need to adjust…" Nagisa said under his breath, getting out the control keyboard and editing the operating system's refined movement shift points. Soon enough, as the last trainee was landing, he'd adjusted enough to compensate, and was able to walk freely.

Piloting a mobile suit, he found, wasn't unlike riding a bike. It required a certain sense of balance—even though the computer system automatically balanced the feet—and timing. He felt that with time, he'd do it more naturally. Seeing the other pilot-hopefuls struggling about as much as he did was encouraging.

"Now, you'll notice that you're all loaded out with some neat toys," Instructor Li said with some derision. He knew that the students had studied their weapons loadout, but he wanted to go over it anyways; he didn't have a choice. "You're all carrying an MM1-M8A3 76mm machinegun. It isn't live, so don't take out your frustrations just yet." This was met with some nervous chuckles from anonymous students in the group, all of whom stood around the instructor in a loose circle. "It's currently loaded up with paint rounds and a laser rangefinder. I'll give you two motivators to do well: you'll get better and get out of here with higher starting rank, and the second is that _you_ are the one responsible for washing off the paint on your MS."

There was a collective gaggle of groans and moans over the communications link, and Li only laughed. That was universally the reaction of flight recruits at the revelation of the old ZAFT tradition. Even Kunio wasn't immune, and Nagisa picked up a distinctive "In the name of Buddha…" and Doyle's characteristic "Bummer!"

"Normally, that gun fires APSV rounds, but you're only going to use that on the live-fire exercises. You've also been outfitted with a carbon-fiber, blunted version of the MA/M3 GiNN sword. That thing will be your best friend when you run out of ammo, so treat it nice and it treats you nice." Their instructor explained, holding up a metal-like, sword-shaped object that didn't look to be quite real. As if to prove his point, he hopped forward and hit a trainee in the chest with it, a killing move, which in this case only served to make a wailing cadet stumble back and keel over with a moan.

Nagisa smirked. He liked this man. As twenty eyes—a disconcerting vista of ominous, bright-red dots—found the instructor once again, he began issuing orders.

"Today, we do the Slalom." He said, and started the session.

The Slalom, as the training staff on Boaz called it, was a series of navigation buoys strung along on an imaginary ski-course. The objective of the Slalom was to get the best time with the best maneuvering through the sharp turns, weaving between 'red' buoys and 'blue' buoys. The first day was only a couple of runs through the Slalom, but they were equipped with their 'weapons' to get a feel for how the GiNN handled with their additional mass as a factor.

Kunio was already on his way to setting a record, impressing Instructor Li, but Nagisa was having his own problems. He discovered that flying in space was a little different than how he imagined it, and dealing with the reality of three to five g being pushed on every curve threw his piloting off by something he couldn't fault the OS for. So as he powered through the Slalom, he found himself groaning audibly with every turn.

The additional gravity sucked the breath out of him, and made it feel as it time was going slower, and thus _he_ was going slower. Or so he thought. "Come on you useless heap of junk!" He grunted, gritting his teeth.

Pushing the throttle pedal, he rocketed out of a hairpin turn and made a beeline for the next swing. With even more stress on him, he felt as if he was going to gag on his compacted tongue.

"Relax, Mimura." Li's voice sounded on a private channel. "Just let your body go with the flow. Anticipate each turn, and _then_ execute."

"Alright—" He managed behind a screen of pearly whites, easing back the thrust as he drifted through a turn with a sporadic use of verniers. Coming out of it, he opened up with his thrusters and killed his lateral momentum, pulling a curve that would have been a space equivalent of using the emergency brake. The force was enough that he banged his helmet on the side of his canopy with a loud _thunk._

He made his way like that through the course, until he flew back to the rally point, settling down woozily, using the GiNN's sword like a crutch as his inner ear struggled to come to grips with a lack of forward momentum. "Shit…"

Over the open link, he heard what sounded like clapping. Then, Li came on again. "Not _bad,_ Mimura. 1'29''90.04. That's almost as fast as Suzuka. Lacked style and finesse, but hell. You ripped it up. Try not to get knocked around as much next time."

"Bang-up job, Nagi!" Doyle beamed as they met up again in the launch bay, punching him in the shoulder in his inimitable way. "No pun intended."

Nagisa rubbed his temple humbly. "Yeah, no joke."

Kunio floated over from his GiNN, holding his helmet under an arm and smiled. "Hey."

"And the Master himself," Doyle said with a cough and then a sharp salute.

"Belay the mickeymouse!" they heard Li shout from his own mobile suit hatch, using his backpack jets to navigate towards them. "You've still got work to do!"

After acquitting themselves in with the Slalom, they discovered yet another of ZAFT's training traditions: Off-hours Ski Time. Flight recruits were allotted a certain number of free-flight hours to use for training each week, and the Slalom was always open for use whenever the instructors weren't putting it in service. Naturally, challenging the Slalom and setting up unique tasks was something of an unofficial sport, and Control kept tabs on the flight record. Time trials were the most common, with the all time record held at an unbelievable fifty-one seconds, in a GiNN trainer, held by Isaac Joule, one of the now-famous La Cruise Team pilots. Cracking the one-minute mark was the sign of ace-pilot portent, and it was a secret goal of Kunio to do this, though he confided it to his two companions from Aprilius, of course.

Thus, training continued.


	3. Reach Out

**Author's Notes: **Sorry for another update lag. This has been finished for eons, so it shouldn't have taken as long. Glad to see some people are actually reading this. Always encouraging. I hope you enjoy this chapter. There's combat coming soon, so don't worry, it won't be _all_ dialogue. You'll notice I arbitrarily changed romanizations on names; this was done to preserve the phonetic sound and closest translation possible. Bandai America did a terrible job with the names, but I'm lucky enough that this fic features only a few cameo appearances of media characters (Ray Yuki being the biggest exception, even if he is a very minor character). 

**Disclaimer: **See first chapter. I still don't own this. Come on. Give it up.

_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED - Fog of War**_

Phase 3: Reach Out 

Training to be a mobile suit pilot was rigorous. They were out in space almost every day, and when they weren't, they were getting lectures on armaments, tactics, and flight protocol on a daily basis. They also soon learned the ritual of 'cleaning the giant', which was the practice of taking a power-scrubber and washing off the garish bright red paint from 'bullet' hits on their GiNNs. Nagisa discovered just what kind of a hassle it was, a chore requiring at least an hour of effort, and studiously endeavored to not get hit as much, a boon that paid off in blocks of free time aside from the mind-numbing notion of it being a survival skill.

Oftentimes there were scrimmages against different recruiting pools, these usually representing loose groups of recruits from different PLANT stations. It was the closest the military got to intramural sports, during wartime. Kunio, Nagisa, and their friends began to form an even tighter group, drawing in Suzuka into their fold. She was pointedly left out of the loop about Nagisa though; none of them trusted her _that_ much. It was a strange thing, knowing you could trust your life to a fellow recruit but not your origins. In time, Nagisa became used to the secrecy, and sometimes was so involved in it, that he often forgot he wasn't a Coordinator.

But by and large, the Slalom dominated their off-hours occupation time. When they weren't studying, they were putting their GiNN Trainers through their paces in the Slalom course.

"Come on, come on." Kunio grumbled, looking at his progress screen. He and his friends were out in Boaz's near-space, putting themselves through laps on the Slalom. It was pretty late—almost lights out—and they still needed to put Doyle and Nagisa through another run. Currently in the track was Suzuka, who was burning a path with expert care, not straying a meter off of her planned course. Hers was a course of reliability over innovation, and it got the job done spotlessly. A few seconds later, as she passed the last buoy, he got her time on his screen: 1'12'20.343. They were all getting pretty close to the Top Twenty-second mark which separated them from Isaac Joule's record. "Nice work, Suzie. Get back."

"Copy," Her sweet-toned voice replied, distorted only a little by static.

"Doyle, up." Kunio said smartly.

Doyle's GiNN hovered at the beginning of the track, stretching its arms and legs absurdly, like a metal-clad track runner. It took a prod with the fake GiNN sword to get him to actually _move, _and end his horsing around. Within seconds he was past the second buoy, moving recklessly into a flight pattern that brought him within mere meters of each buoy. He finished in at 1'16'53.240.

"Nagi, up."

Nagisa grunted an affirmative, and checked his Trainer's status. All systems were go. So without fanfare, mentally crossing his fingers, he hit his verniers, and streaked past the start nav-buoy, commencing his run through the Slalom.

The GiNN, definitely not a _young_ piece of equipment, responded well, given the circumstances. The sheer irony of the Trainer's existence was that Boaz's training facility GiNNs were put through more stress than almost any other mobile suit units, subjected daily to proving-ground caliber punishment on the order of a dozen times. It was almost expected that they be a little uppity and persistent in developing problems, and this day was no different as he passed the fourth buoy in a drift turn.

A sudden alarm alerted him that his left bottom vernier was going to give out on him. If it did, he'd have unstable thrust and would be unable to control the mobile suit for the rest of the run. However, he was determined to finish the lap on the Slalom—not as a matter of pride, but as a consideration that these were real combat circumstances. _Can't call quits when under fire because of a bad jet, _he reminded himself, adjusting his thrust to more evenly distribute the load, compensating by using the left-top and right-bottom verniers at one-hundred percent.

"Running into some snags here. Got a tilted thruster." He said into his helmet mike, powered straight for the next buoy, cutting a shallow angle, and checked his status. Only a few more to go.

There was a burst of static. "Don't push it too hard, Li will have a fit."

"Copy." Moments later though, Nagisa heard that same persistent, beeping alarm. It was going to die on him if he kept flying at attack speed. Only two more buoys and he would be clear…but would it hold out that long? Growling to himself, he _willed_ the vernier to keep firing, and hoped to whatever deities existed that the fuel line didn't go too, causing the young Nagisa a premature death. Ending up FUBAR was not an option, not in a Trainer, anyways…

The last buoy came in sight, and as soon as he was clear of the turn, he gave a burst of speed with his three good verniers, re-angled, and cut thrust. The GiNN, now on ballistic instead of powered flight, maintained speed in the vacuum, hurtling noiselessly through the void towards the gate, until it passed, causing the two gate buoys to light up green. He'd made it.

"Time?" Nagisa asked, righting the GiNN unsteadily, hoping the thruster didn't decide to be spiteful and kill him _now._

There was a pause. Kunio then read off his score. "1'12'111."

"God damn it, Nagisa!" Suzuka cried out over the open channel, sounding her frustration loudly. "Even with that POS GiNN Trainer of yours!"

Mimura Nagisa could only laugh, as he slowly flew towards his compatriots, smiling despite himself. He said to Suzuka, "You're going to have to bring in a couple of Nazcas, all of Earth's mobile armor, and the La Cruise Team to stop me now."

"Whatever," Suzuka said as they reformed in a diamond formation and turned towards the docking bay. "I guess this means I owe you midday chow."

Kunio, unseen, was grinning wide. "Smart girl, that Suzuka. What do you think, Doyle?"

"Way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Doyle confirmed as the group gently recovered into the launch bay, setting their GiNNs into the catch-harness, and a couple of maintenance teams rushed out to once again piece back together their hunk-of-junk mobile suits for another day of rigorous trials.

Each of them was privately snickering, knowing just what training division was being handed off _that_ unenviable task…

Daily training went on like that for a while, with additional classes being held on such things as field operations, hand-to-hand combat, and zero-g acrobatics. In hand-to-hand, Nagisa really suffered. There was just no getting around the fact that his fellow recruits were physically superior to him in almost every way. They were faster, stronger…it frustrated Nagisa to no end, and sometimes, in his weaker moments, most of them after being thrown down on a gym mat, he felt a stirring of envy for their abilities which came so naturally.

_No, not naturally, _he thought bitterly. _But no one would know the difference, now would they?_

He kept his dissatisfaction with their gap in performance in check and to himself, reminding himself that they weren't to blame; he'd set himself a very high bar, and he would have to push himself to the very limits of his endurance and ability to compete with them on the level. He might not win, he knew, but he could still give them a run for their money. Thus Hand-to-Hand became an exercise in patience as well as combat training, as he struggled to make sure he wasn't taken down without a raucous and long fight. He managed to beat some of the female recruits, but that didn't say all that much considering the men just wailed on him. He didn't beat Suzuka though, which left him a little annoyed. Doyle though, constantly beat them all and ragged on them daily and nightly for it. As physically the strongest and most athletic, he already had a natural feel for how to fight with his body.

The trainees also studied the command structure, the current status of the war, and other technologies employed by the ZAFT forces. As time went on, and at great cost to Nagisa in free time, the ad-hoc OS became as good as the professionally-made ZAFT standard, and he was able to pilot the GiNN without any hindrance owing to being a Natural. Privately, his friends were impressed, knowing that he'd done something that was a great achievement he would never be known for, if all went well for him. Since Nagisa wasn't in the service for the praise, he was content with the knowledge that one personal goal had been met.

As far as command structures went, ZAFT was somewhat unorthodox. All mobile-suit pilots were commissioned officers, beginning with second lieutenant, junior grade. In practice though, most mobile suit pilots acted like NCOs in the command structure, as much higher-ranking officers like captains and commanders supervised them. The bulk of the enlisted men and women and noncommissioned officers were ship and station crews. The Mobile Weapons Corps was almost entirely outside of the regular command structure, operating on orders direct from ship captains, their executive officers, and admirals alone, and of course, their squad leaders. The lowest a mobile suit pilot could graduate from training was second lieutenant, junior grade brevet-rank, signifying they would prove that they earned the rank after filling in such a position over a trial period. The highest rank for graduation was First Lieutenant, which most times, when not accompanied by a Major, acted as a squadron leader.

During their study, several interesting developments occurred in the war. Apparently, the enemy ship known universally among the ZAFT forces as 'the legged ship' had fled from the area around Heliopolis, and appeared in a battle with Admiral La Cruise's team just as Rakusu Klein was recovered. The pilot of the Strike was proving himself a formidable opponent, and it was rumored that Asuran Zara actually knew the pilot—and that he was a Coordinator.

Nagisa felt a pang of sympathy for the unnamed soldier who was fighting on the 'legged-ship'. Though he didn't say it, he was in something of a twisted, parallel situation, but he couldn't be sure that the coordinator 'traitor' was fighting for good reasons. He had no evidence to back up a claim either way.

The war was grinding towards a long period of build-up and unload, build-up and unload as several skirmishes occurred here and there, though there was word that the brass might have something up its sleeve sometime soon. Until then, they would be working towards eliminating threats near the PLANT colonies while the regular army flattened Earth's space-launch capabilities.

Flight school was steadily moving towards its end result, and final examinations would soon come, and they would then receive their rank warrants and assignments. For now though, the routine seemed to become one with the students, and vice-versa. Sitting around flight manuals and technical readouts, the three men from Aprilius and their one female counterpart were reviewing for their final examinations.

"You know, this has been something of a ride, hasn't it?" Suzuka said, looking up from her 'ZAFT Arms Manual', breaking a long silence. Her sinuous frame wasn't hidden by the baggy jumpsuit anymore as she wore her barracks clothes of a tight shirt and a pair of slacks. The trio was thus reminded of her femininity in that regard, but they didn't do much about it. "I'm glad we all met."

"Yeah." Nagisa said. "It's good to make friends in strange places, and Boaz is about as strange a place as any."

Kunio gave a thumbs-up. "You guys are the best fire-team a pilot could ask for. And it helps, having a brother in the service."

"Two brothers, you mean." Nagisa added with a jab to the shoulder. Kunio was always reticent when it came to talking about Satoshi. "He's a Captain but he's not _dead."_

"Fleet." Doyle said with a scoff, playing a game of solitaire, "Unless you're inside one of those GiNNs, space is a game."

"Don't dis' fleet man," Kunio said with a growl. "Most of our casualties are fleet-based."

"He's just being cross for the sake of argument," Nagisa interjected, before an altercation started. Satoshi and father were both in fleet, he knew, so he felt a little jibed. _Father…when did I start thinking of Colonel Mimura as 'father'?_

Suzuka closed her manual. "Lyles just thinks that 'flight suit is the last suit you wear' and all that MS-BS. He isn't serious. Are you?"

Doyle looked up again, a little more bashfully this time. "Well…"

"See?" Suzuka picked up her manual. "Crushed like a paper-cup."

The group continued to study, and the next day, at the Strategy lecture, they received a lesson that their instructor had for a long time put in the works. It was for their benefit, Instructor Nara, the strategist from HQ knew, so he was going to put his all into it. When the student-recruits assembled in their classroom, he stood in his uniform, looking at the plasma-screen board blankly. Once they were settled, he turned around and spoke in a loud voice, his tall, bulky frame moving with practiced ease.

"Soon, most of you will become members of the proud fighting force of the Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty—ZAFT—and join your countrymen in our fight for survival against those Natural bastards." He said with a grunt of emphasis on the last two words. His sister and brother had been on Junius 7 at the time of the Valentine of Blood, and he would be dammed if he was going to forgive some stuck-up genetic purist for murdering his family. "And you will have to realize, that no matter how terrible they are, they're still people, and you'll be in the business of killing."

The room was utterly silent, no one even dared make a rustle of clothes or even tap a pen. This was the real deal, as it were, _the_ lecture. It had been a long time coming, some of them knew, and it sort of represented to them the beginning of the end of their training cadet careers. It was a morbid lecture, to say the least, but one they needed to hear.

Nara focused his eyes on the younger of the Mimura brothers, Nagisa, staring him down. There was something about the recruit that he didn't quite like. It was as if he was always ready to please, always trying a little too hard. People like him had a tendency to burn out, and he didn't like wash-ups. What he liked less was people who were sympathetic on the battlefield, and Mimura Nagisa had shown a proclivity towards being soft. He was almost wholly unlike his older brother, whom Nara saw as almost a replica of the young Asuran Zara—whom he'd trained in that very same room, not a year before—though there were distinct differences. Kunio was no less impressive though.

"There will come a time, not far from now, when you will have to _kill._" He said forcefully, as if to Nagisa alone. The teen, behind a veneer of dark-gray-black bangs, stared unflinchingly up at him, though Nara could tell those eyes were uncertain. "Combat isn't fun. It isn't like training here. Training here is _fun_ compared to being out _there._"

The instructor struck a hand out and pointed towards the bulkhead closest to the surface of the Boaz asteroid. His thick thumb remained unwavering in the air, hovering just a foot above Mimura Nagisa's full head of hair.

He leaned in, and in just as loud a voice, nearly shouting, demanded answers from the passive Nagisa. "Are you ready, are you _prepared_ to kill, Recruit Mimura?"

"Yes, _sir!"_ Nagisa shouted back, out of reflex more than actual thought. Was he ready to kill? To kill other human beings? To protect his friends, he would have to, he knew. That was why he enlisted. That was why he'd spent his last twenty-six days on this blasted asteroid rock, an airless moon from hell, so he could learn to fight, learn to pilot, and yes, learn to kill. Even if they were Naturals. Hell, he would kill Coordinators if they got in between him and his family and friends.

Nara scoffed. "What's that, recruit?"

"Yes _sir, _I am ready to kill, _SIR!"_ Nagisa barked back, emptying his lungs with the effort. His young voice was a counter to Nara's basso in the large, otherwise silent room. The other recruits looked on, half in shock, half in awe as the customarily soft-spoken recruit went off like a hand-grenade in their instructor's face. He didn't quite care anymore—he didn't have to prove himself to some instructor to know what his goals were. If they involved killing to achieve, well that was just the price he was willing to pay.

Instructor Nara gazed firmly down at the student, hiding his surprise, before moving on. "You are going to be among the finest of pilots, so you'd all better look sharp, unless you want to mess up my ZAFT, and I won't let you mess up my ZAFT, I promise you that."

The lecture went on like that, with Nara making points here and there about the ethos of being a soldier during wartime. It wasn't very entertaining, of course, but it was a necessary step in their education. This man was a friend of the famous Andrew Bartfield, the Tiger of the Desert, and he _knew_ real soldiers, real generals. Men and women who made him proud to be a member of the ZAFT armed forces, and he showed his students—and his enemy, ignorance—no quarter.

When he was done, he just stood at the end of the row of desks. "Recruits, dis-MISSED."

Nagisa and the others filed out of the room quickly, offering salutes to their instructor as they exited. When they were out in the hall, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking over it, he saw Kunio and Suzuka, both of whom seemed somewhat concerned, Kunio more so.

"You all right, Nagi?" he asked, lifting thin eyebrows in question.

Nagisa sighed heavily and forced a smile for their benefit. "I'm fine. Nara just gets on my nerves."

Suzuka took his arm, and Kunio held on to the boy's shoulder as they headed out, finding Doyle and putting him in tow. The young female recruit said with a grin. "That sure was funny though. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The look on Nara's face was so priceless. The man always _did_ like things that blow up in his face…"

Feeling the warmth of Suzuka's arm against his, he quirked a brow, but said nothing about it. Hearing her take on the incident though, Nagisa smiled wryly. "I guess."

Kunio scratched his chin pensively as they walked. "I wonder what got Nara so focused on you though…" he trailed off quietly, and threw his brother a look that demanded further discussion at a later time. There were some worry lines on Mimura Kunio's smooth features, but he managed to keep his concern in check. In his mind though, he asked himself if Nara had caught onto Nagisa's ruse.

_No, couldn't have,_ he mused, shaking his head absently. _No reason for him to be suspicious._

Final grading examinations proved difficult, but doable. It basically consisted of a long battery of tests, written and oral examinations, and a simulated combat exercise. If anything, the FGE was simply exhausting in its thoroughness and tiresome nature. By the end of the first day, even Kunio was beginning to think that enlisting was a _bad_ idea. By the _third_ day, Suzuka swore she'd never do something so stupid again. When the fifth and final day of exams arrived, they were almost dead, sleep-walking to their examination rooms, and then, the final 'scrimmage' match between fire teams. They were going to suit up, assembled in the Pilot's Lounge, when Instructor Li arrived, with a few sealed containers carried in by a couple of Fleet MPs.

"Welcome to your last and final examination, recruits." Li said curtly, offering them a salute. He was proud of each and every one of the nineteen remaining recruits—one had flunked out and was reassigned to Logistics, poor soul—and those that were left represented some of the toughest flight training known to man. He had ample reason to be satisfied with them. "Congratulations to all of you who remain."

There was some muted applause amongst the small band of cadets, as they glanced furtively at the container crates the MPs had pushed in. They floated conspicuously behind instructor Chen Cho Li, who wore a pristine black fleet officer's uniform with the rank insignia of a captain-rating or higher commissioned officer.

"Now, for your scrimmage. These are the targets. Look carefully." He pointed to the first in the line of crates, which the military policeman opened with out fanfare, revealing its contents, turning it towards the recruits for viewing. Inside, sealed for zero gravity transport, were bottles of soft drinks, popular snack food brands from PLANT, at least one bottle of whiskey, and sealed, still hot meals.

Doyle was the first to regain his speech faculty. "Sir…? What _are_ those?"

Li grinned voraciously. "They're your targets for this engagement. Lock and load, Doyle. You've all earned it. Consider this ZAFT's going-away present for you, before you guys head to the front."

"Eh, _maji?"_ Kunio gaped, staring at the crates. There must have been enough for at least twice the number of recruits present, and then some. "For real?"

"You'll find that aside from Basic, ZAFT treats its soldiers well." The flight instructor said with a grandiose gesture, ordering the MPs to open the other crates. He fairly beamed at them, satisfied that this batch of recruits would turn into fine pilots. Maybe, if they were good enough, there wouldn't be a need to train so _many_ of their young men and women for war. It was wishful thinking, Chen knew, but he was allowed hope, though it wasn't standard-issue along with the uniform and turf.

"So no more exams?" One recruit, a kid from Boaz itself asked. "No more tests?"

"No more tests, Ratchet." Li confirmed.

The recruits didn't need second promptings. They fell upon the high-quality meals, drinks, and junk food like a swarm of carrion-eaters around a recent kill. With only the bland mess-hall food to eat for the last month, they were all starved for some real, down-to-earth—figuratively speaking—consumables. As Suzuka, Kunio, and Nagisa found a corner for themselves, they heard Doyle yell.

"Mien Gott in Himmel!" He exclaimed loudly, holding up a plastic-wrapped cardboard box "Pizza! And beer!"

Kunio smiled, gazing at the others with satisfaction. It had been harder than he thought, going through a month of condensed training. He'd found within himself a reservoir of patience and strength he didn't really believe was there. What made it more pleasing was that his father seemed to have known it was in him all along. Now, only half a day before graduation, he felt very glad that he'd enlisted in the military, and held none of the reserve he'd had before about ZAFT.

What surprised him the most though, was the change he saw in Nagisa. When they enlisted, he was a little worried that he wouldn't be able to hold up. He'd set such a high bar to jump over—to be among ZAFT Coordinator ranks—that Kunio honestly had doubts he could do it. But almost by sheer force of will, determination, and drive, before his eyes Nagisa became a hard-nosed, dedicated soldier trainee, making up for his natural shortcomings with skill, talent, ingenuity, and sometimes just plain cheating. He wondered what would happen if anyone ever found out about MS-DOS.

_They'd either court-martial him and try him for espionage, _Kunio thought with morbid amusement, _or give him the Nebula Award for bravery._

Watching him stand there, squeeze-bottle drink in hand with a slice of pizza, with Suzuka leaning against him slightly, Kunio saw Nagisa in a new light. And he definitely noted how amiable Suzuka was being with him, and grimaced inwardly with some good-natured jealousy. _When did that happen? _It couldn't have been anything serious though; recruits didn't have time for relationships.

_Don't go locking-on too soon, bro. _

Doyle too, had grown, if not in the physical sense as much as the metaphysical sense. Though he was still a party-animal and a playboy, he'd gained a lot of responsibility and dependability over the last four and a half weeks of training. And, as if it were actually possible, the three grew even closer-knit, even more a single, cohesive unit, a band of brothers before the first shot was ever fired.

"A toast," Suzuka said, detaching herself from Nagisa to raise her sports-bottle of whatever-it-was inside, smiling wide. "To a month in hell, so we can end the hell around us."

"Here, here!" Doyle cheered, raising his own drink.

Nagisa and Kunio stared at each other for a long moment, lifting their drink-hands automatically. For a moment, an unspoken communication went between the two, one acknowledging the other's ability, the other thankful for the endless support and confidence. Both were proud to be able to call each other friends and brothers. Even if the insane war being fought around them—which they would join in a matter of days—they'd found something good amongst the rubble and chaos, something _strong._ They'd found friends, family, strength, and the courage to face their fears. _That_ was something worth toasting.

"Just like old times, right Kun-kun?" Nagisa said with a hint of dry humor.

He shook his head slightly, a little sardonically. "No, not like old times. Better."

Nagisa shrugged emphatically, sipped from his drink, and looked out of the window that overlooked the launch bay, towards the twenty GiNN Trainers still berthed within. A wistful expression passed over him as his friends celebrated their graduation a day early, and his thoughts went out to the myriad stars of the depths of space. What sort of fate did they hold for him? Almost every night, before he fell asleep, he would ask himself the same thing: _what am I made of? What can I do?_

There was a reason that he did all of this that was hidden even from Kunio. This confidential notion was that all through his life, most of what he had done he'd found incredibly _easy_. He wanted a challenge worth taking, a challenge that was capable of bringing him to the very edge and back again. He wanted something to prove his mettle, an achievement he could look back on with pride and self-satisfaction, knowing that _one singular thing_ was what made him who he was.

Maybe he was wrong to want to do so, to strive so hard to be one of _them,_ in essence the ultimate challenge, to surpass one's self, but he _wanted_ it more than almost anything. Protecting his newfound place in society was still first—but not by much.

The assembly yard inside Boaz space fortress was fairly large. On demand, it could seat at least a thousand, and hold about just many and then some if all parties were standing. A stage dominated one end of the massive chamber, and doors on the sides and rear emptied into the vault-like room. It was a brightly lit cross between a ballroom and a parade ground. Normally, it was used by the civilian inhabitants of Boaz as a gathering hall for important events, but since the war began, more often than not it was a training hall and mass-briefing room. Today, it served a special purpose, keeping in the tradition of its owners' strong beliefs in keeping in stride as a single society, and also following the rich military heritage it inherited from many different military forces since the beginning of human history.

Standing in rows and then columns were the latest batch of recruits from various PLANT colonies, all having started their training at roughly the same time. There were at least five hundred, divided up by graduated rank, rating, and division. All divisions were present, afforded the same glamour and prestige in having graduated from the military's training programs. From left to right, it was Strategic Operations and Planning, Intelligence, Fleet Security/Infantry, Mobile Weapons, Mechanical Logistics, Logistics, Corps of Engineers, Weapons and Armament—arguably one of the most riotous of the organization, their job was simply to blow things up, and they loved every moment of it—and Medical Support Personnel. From these broad divisions almost every soldiering career in ZAFT originated; every profession in PLANT's military began with one of these categories.

The most sought-after positions though, were of course Operations and Planning, the sure ticket to a command and commission, and Mobile Weapons. Though technically equal to everyone else at this point, they were still seen with more respect than the others. Some of the others were 'pogue' soldiers, to them.

Standing at the front rank of pilot candidates, Nagisa, Kunio, Lyles, and Suzuka looked ahead towards their superiors, the instructors who'd taught them until this point, as one by one they were called forward to receive their promotion warrants, any merit awards they might have earned, and a last word from their D.I.s.

"Hayes-Sato, Suzuka, First Lieutenant, Junior Grade." Chen Cho Li announced, going by enlistment order and rank divisions instead of alphabetical order. As the girl walked up to him, he smiled and saluted. Suzuka was definitely one of the best to come out of this crop, in his opinion. Drill Instructor Nara wasn't far off, but he had his own troops to promote. "Good work, Lt. Hayes-Sato. Keep at it."

"Thank you, sir!" She saluted curtly, and received her promotion warrant. She was also awarded a Good Conduct Award for her straitlaced training, not subject to a single reprimand or punishment detail during her month of training. She was sent to her place in the line again.

"Next. Doyle, Lyles Maverick. Second Lieutenant."

At the announcement of his name, Lyles stepped forward, saluted, and was presented with his warrant, and a punch on the shoulder, Doyle's trademark currency of goodwill. The tall young man stood tall in his uniform, the dark red, black, and splash of yellow hourglasses at the collar, white belt and boots, the uniforms of the Elite Pilots' squadrons. Though he was only a second lieutenant, the fact that he'd been issued such a uniform foreshadowed his assignment, and he wore it with pride.

"Mimura, Kunio Toshiro, First Lieutenant."

"Hai!" Kunio's eyes widened. That was the highest rank one could graduate from the standard Mobile Weapons program, and guaranteed a squadron command. He moved forward automatically, executing a perfect parade-ground salute, eyes intensely focused on Instructor Li.

"Nice job, Lieutenant. You're going places, young man." Li handed over the proper papers, a Good Conduct Award, saluting him. At the end of the day, Kunio ended up breaking the one-minute mark at fifty-eight seconds, three milliseconds. He ranked tenth overall, in the flight history of the academy. He also racked up the second-most amount of logged flight hours. "Go get 'em, Soldier."

"Sir!" Kunio saluted again, wishing his father were around to see this. He would have to settle for his brother and his friends, but that was good enough for him right now. Walking back to the group, also dressed in crimson and black—unlike the overwhelming majority of those behind them, who wore olive green and white uniforms of lieutenants and ensigns, standard assignments.

"Now, the _other_ Mimura. Mimura, Nagisa Ayato, First Lieutenant, J.G." Li said with a formal parade salute.

Kunio spared a look at Nagisa as he was called forth while his brother retook his place in the rank. Nagisa, like the other three, wore dress reds, his rank insignia absent, as they hadn't yet been issued theirs, strode towards the instructor with sharp clops of his immaculate white boots, coming to a halt with a salute of his own.

Nagisa held the salute, filled with a deep sense of achievement. He'd set out to prove himself worthy, and here, the first stage of it, was now evident for all to see. Most of all, he knew how hard he'd worked to get there, and to be given the rank of a First Lieutenant—junior grade aside—was splendidly good fortune. The only thing that made the experience bittersweet was the knowledge that his birth parents were both dead and unable to witness his coming of age in the military.

"You've acquitted yourself well, Lieutenant Mimura." Li said quietly, out of earshot of the other graduating recruits. His face was stern, but Nagisa could catch the hint of a smile lurking there. "Don't try _too_ hard. Just stay alive. No need to impress, just get the job done. The greatest heroes are the unsung ones. When things go right, no one knows they even exist, because everyone takes 'em for granted. Anyways, show them your spirit."

"Understood, sir." Nagisa took his promotion warrant in one hand, and saluted with the other. He also received the distinction of most flight hours on record, and a Gold Ranking award for his assiduous studies with the training corps, putting him in the top one percent of grade-earners, an outstanding achievement even by ZAFT standards. Something that wasn't mentioned though, was that most Mobile Weapons devotees didn't really care for academia, and only the Strategy and Ops people really valued that award.

Other candidates were called up and presented with rank and medals, as needed, until they were all standing in their ranks, as full soldiers for the very first time, some of them assembled near former schoolmates for the first time in a month. Their faces were still young, but now they were a disciplined force to be reckoned with.

"Atten-HUT!." Li called as he finished, and even though the recent graduates were all at attention, the stood even straighter. "You've all done very well. We, your instructors," Li said, nodding to Nara and Latour, both of whom were present near this section, "Are all proud of you. You represent the hope of this generation for peace and prosperity for the PLANT colonies, and deliverance from the hands of the Earth Alliance. Give them your best shot, then keep on coming. We salute you."

The instructor suited his actions to words, executing a brusque salute, facing them square. As he did so, he shouted out, "Pilots—DISMISSED!"

With the ceremony at a close, they were to now go to their bunkrooms, pick up their bags, and pick up from their mailboxes their duty assignments and insignia. The four young pilots of the 'Aprilius Gang' milled together, headed back to the trainee barracks in the highest spirits of their lives. Their _espirt de corps_ was there too, the new uniforms only adding to the natural high they all had, heads in the clouds.

Waiting for them at their mailboxes, in addition to their assignments, were messages from home, allowed them now once their families were informed of their graduation and promotions. It was a cherished, quiet moment, as they took their things to the bunkroom and looked them over carefully.

Nagisa and Kunio received the same message from their parents: we knew you could do it. turned out for the best, didn't it? stay strong, boys. Kunio embraced his longtime friend and brother tightly, and Nagisa, overcome with emotion, returned the bear-hug, as they both laughed—and cried—at the great irony of their situations; a son who wanted to resist tradition now embodying it, and the secret soldier fighting for his natural enemy. There was a charged feeling in the room, as both Suzuka and Lyles looked on in astonishment, but rather satisfied themselves.

"Now…assignments…" Suzuka muttered, fishing through her satchel for her stationing papers. She found them, unfolded the printout with the hourglass-glyph of the Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty, and read the brief half page of text.

first lieutenant (j.g) suzuka hayes-sato,

you are to report to the nazca-class ship solomon, under the command of captain ray yuki, by 0700 as of tomorrow morning. you will be assigned to the special operations mobile suit squadron under the command of lt. mimura kunio. be prepared for immediate departure upon boarding.

"Hey!" Suzuka shouted over the din of the boys' laughter, waving her duty papers about madly, trying in vain to get their attention. She had to physically come in between the two brothers and their elder friend to get their undivided attention.

"What are you ranting about, Suzie?" Lyles asked innocently, sitting on the edge of a low bunk.

"Kunio's my squadron commander. Check out your orders, Kun-kun." She grinned, brushing her long hair back, deciding it best to begin to place it in her dual ponytails.

Kunio opened up his printout, scanned it quickly, and stifled a gasp of surprise. He'd not expected that much good luck, to get a command _and_ as good a pilot as Suzuka on his first run. "She's right…damn."

"Guess I'll have to start calling you 'sir'." Suzuka said with a wink.

Kunio shook his head vigorously. "You do that and I'll bust you down to PFC."

They laughed a little bit, and then Suzuka urged the rest to read out their duty assignments, the _short_ version: ship, captain, and CO. Doyle would go first.

For once, he didn't dramatize. Instead, he read it as he saw it, and in his good speaking voice, stated, "_Solomon,_ Captain Yuki, Mimura Kunio…? That's a probably a typo, isn't it? No offense, Kun-man."

"Nagisa." The girl nodded, prodding him with a soft hand. "Your turn."

Nagisa opened up the crisply folded Personnel Office stationary, looking at the military's logo, the address line, then the meat and drink of the duty letter. With an amused shrug, he uttered. "_Solomon, _Captain Yuki, Mimura Kunio. Looks like they want us together."

Kunio was speechless, much to the amusement of his newfound subordinates. They would be his flight team from now on, according to the assignment letters. It was a strange coincidence—and the more he thought about it, the more he figured it _wasn't_ coincidence. ZAFT Command probably wanted as tightly-knit units as possible, allowing for instant battle readiness and teamwork. The more well-bonded a flight group was, the better they performed, statistically. He didn't know much about Captain Yuki besides that he was a former friend of his father's, back in his earlier years. Yuki was supposedly a young captain, not forty yet, and very charismatic. He did several missions under Admiral Raul La Cruise, and was formerly Asuran Zara's commanding officer. That was the gist of it.

"We're in this together then," Kunio said anticlimactically, smiling weakly. He really didn't want to be a leader, but if that was what was asked of him, he would do it. It made him feel marginally better that his teammates would be his friends. "Now we get to see how long our luck lasts."

Nagisa smiled too; he expected as much from Kunio, who'd always been the charismatic and strong member of their group, the decisive, cool and collected when the others weren't, able to bring them together even in the midst of one of their few fights—which had a tendency for getting ugly. He trusted every one of the people in that room with his life, and was more than willing to defer to Kunio. Doyle too, he knew, would follow suit. As much as he liked being the slick ladies' man, he'd learned when to rein it in.

There wasn't much left to do that night. They'd already celebrated the night before, so all they really could do was just talk, or try placing their rank insignia on their crimson pilot's uniforms without having the pin-holders fall down their shirts.

Suzuka was the first to complain, standing stiffly in her high-stock collared outfit, looking at the black leather-like shoulder pads. "They must have thrown all the starch in PLANT into these uniforms. I can barely move!"

"Cloth armor, maybe?" Nagisa suggested, poking at the fabric of his own clothing. Indeed, whoever fabricated the uniforms for the military sure as hell did a thorough job in making the jacket and pants as stiff as could be. It would take a wash or two so that they didn't appear as toy soldiers while on duty.

Military life is filled with a thousand small details, just like any existence. The life of a soldier is comprised of many myriad details that normally wouldn't strike people as important. A uniform may seem trivial to most people, but when a person was condemned to wearing the same uniform every day for years—even if it isn't the same exact article—it has to be something functional and likeable. The ZAFT uniform was supposedly 'better-looking' as compared to that of the Earth Alliance, and certainly, though nobody really compared, the ZAFT uniform was a few credits more expensive to produce, so of course it lent the new pilots a certain sense of unity. What they didn't like though was how stiff it felt, like any new article of clothing. They were almost afraid of the time to pick up their flight suits. If _those_ came with the same 'starch-and-sell' policy, they would be in for a tough ride.

Staring at the rank insignia of a large yellow rectangle with a white line beneath it, Nagisa wondered how the next few days would unfold. They had no clue as to what kind of tour of duty they would have, except that it was an 'elite' post. Such posts were, unsurprisingly, the most demanding and oftentimes the most dangerous, with prolonged tours into enemy territory. They might even involve testing new technologies or tactics, a risky, trial-and-error methodology of war. There was a half-serious line that circulated regularly at the training center, and it was that the Elites wore red because they were invariably being used for target practice.

That night, after Suzuka left for her own bunkroom, Nagisa stared up at the bunk above him, pondering. It was almost 0100 when he turned off his bunk light, but the giddiness within him didn't allow him to sleep until almost a half-hour later.

When they left the next day, the only thing out of the ordinary was a small discovery which baffled the GiNN Trainer maintenance crews: number RTZ0-18 had recorded substantially less flight hours than reported, on its onboard system. When they made a sweep of the system hard drive and operating system, they couldn't find anything wrong to explain it. Deciding that it was for the best, the Master Chief Petty Officer ordered them to reformat the onboard computer drive and reinstall the OS to fix any recording problems. After that, it worked fine.

End Chapter 3


	4. Into the Deep

**Author's Notes**: As per my standard, I make you write and suffer with my activity lapses and long spans of nothing but static across your monitors. Well, that aside, here's some more _Fog of War_ for you! I really do love this story (of the fanfics I've written, it's by far my favorite), but so many other things keep pulling at me in different directions, it's hard to come back to fanfics. In other news, I'll soon be putting up a site where you can browse all my fics in one place, and take a look at snippets from my original (negotiated and nonnegotiated) works. I'm not too sure when it'll go up. Was gonna wait until I could put aside for a domain, but I'll probably host it on freewebs or something. Anyhow, this is a double update, so chapter 5 should be up as well. 

**Disclaimer: **Please see first chapter.

_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED: Fog of War **_

_Phase 4: Into the Deep_

The four pilots assigned to the _Solomon_ were up early the next morning, their belongings easily packed into anonymous dark blue duffels and two satchel cases, all dressed primly and uncomfortably, ready to report for duty. Saying a last goodbye to some of the other former recruits on their way out, the team headed towards the drydock section of Boaz space fortress, floating through weightless corridors, walking through the occasional gravity-bound passage, and wandering with only half a clue as to where to go before they found themselves in the proper location, assignment orders in-hand and good for inspection.

On the way, they stopped at Logistics and picked up some of their back pay and were given their standard-issue equipment: a spare set of dress uniforms, a nine-millimeter pistol, two magazines, combat knife and a carton of ammunition, a couple days' worth of MRE field rations (Meals Rejected by Everyone), another copy of the ZAFT Military Justice Handbook, a datapad, communicator link, and toiletries.

The space fortress' drydock was massive, even when compared to the training launch bay. While the training bay held twenty GiNNs, this cavernous bay could hold an entire _fleet_ of warships, support vessels, and fortress-based mobile suits. The bay was so long actually, that it stretched nearly a kilometer into the rock face of the Boaz asteroid. It wasn't even the only bay of its kind in the station. It was one of their first glimpses of just how _large_ the ZAFT military apparatus was on Boaz, a sobering reminder that they wouldn't have the cozy feeling of the comparatively tiny training center anytime soon.

The _Solomon, _a sleek, curvaceous, disturbingly _aqua_ Nazca-class vessel, weighing in at just over two-hundred fifty meters, sat berthed at the very fore of the line of ships present. It was currently the only one of its type at port, as the fleet was out on maneuvers, so it stood monolithically as a great neon sign in mid-vacuum. It would meet up with its sister ships, _Jericho_ and _Aurora_ just outside the station's near-space, two Lurasia-class destroyers. Though alone and swarming with repair crews, it was still very every bit as impressive as the famous _Vesalius _and _Gamoff. _

Lower, junior officers saluted them as they passed, politely returning the salute and reciprocating protocol whenever they drifted by higher-ranking personnel. As they moved about, they saw at least one 'Purple'—a fleet command officer—and another Red like themselves. A Warrant Officer, First Class, met the quartet at the docking gate with the _Solomon._

"Name, rank, and serial number?" The male officer asked, extending a hand to receive their orders. Kunio, naturally, was first in line.

"Mimura Kunio, First Lieutenant, 201-29110-1-E." Kunio said quickly but clearly. The warrant officer scanned the papers, and waved him through. The young lieutenant pulled himself into the _Solomon_'s median deck and waited for his comrades, all of who followed the same procedure without delay. Now, standing in the white and gray, glossy and well-lit corridors of the ship, they considered where they should head first.

"We're new personnel," Kunio said with as much authority as he could muster—which wasn't much, he was still new at this 'commander' bit—and looked at a little diagram. "So we head to the bridge and report for duty to the captain."

_Solomon_ was fairly spacious for a space battleship. Crewed by only a few hundred personnel, pilots, and a dozen gunners, it didn't require particularly large amounts of crewers. In fact, it could run on much less, if need be. Thus, the ship was well-suited for long tours of duty, and with a very fast set of engines, the fastest in the fleet, a Nazca could easily perform RTB and re-supply at base. With several main beam cannons as armaments and the ability to carry a half dozen mobile suits, it was a formidable weapon of war.

Perhaps most impressive, they discovered upon entering, was the bridge. Located to the aft-dorsal section of the ship, it was framed by an exaggeratedly curved set of viewports, flight deck, and command promenade, affording a wonderful view even from the very back, where the lifts and ladders were located. It was there that the decidedly mismatched four pilots appeared, satchels and duffels in hand.

Captain Ray Yuki, a man of almost, but not quite thirty-six, was tall, thin, and lean, with light brown hair, dark eyes, and a chiseled face. He cut an impressive profile, standing on the command deck of the bridge of the _Solomon,_ dressed in a black captain's uniform with distinctive lavender-gray shoulder accents. The large yellow rectangle with a red line through it on his left breast signified to the new arrivals that he was indeed the man they were looking for, and his narrow eyes focused in on them keenly.

_An interesting bunch,_ he thought to himself, watching them salute and come to attention. Two similar-looking Asian boys, a clearly Anglo, massive youth who probably did rather well for himself with females, and an aforementioned female with surprisingly striking, soft features and powerful gray eyes, with hair only a couple of shades darker than the captain's own. They certainly were a _handsome_ group, and it made Yuki wonder momentarily if elite pilots were promoted by photogenic merit alone. Save for perhaps 'Helmet' Joule, he'd yet to run into any _ugly_ elites…

Banishing the frivolous and uncouth thought quickly, he nodded to them with a small salute in return. "I'm Captain Ray Yuki of the _Solomon."_

"Sir," The shorter of the two Asian boys said—Mimura Kunio, he recalled, from the photo on the bio he'd read the day before—stepped forward. "First Lieutenant Mimura Kunio, reporting for duty, sir."

The young lady matched his action, coming to a halt exactly next to him. "First Lieutenant, Junior Grade, Suzuka Hayes-Sato, reporting."

"First Lieutenant, J.G. Mimura Nagisa," the remaining dark haired-boy said, saluting, "Ready for orders, Captain."

"Second Lieutenant Lyles Doyle, reporting for duty, sir." The blond one affirmed with a final salute, standing erect, dominating over the others in terms of height and physical mass. He was even larger than Yuki, and could probably knock him out. That really amused the Captain.

"At ease, pilots." Yuki offered a slight smile, scratching his clean-cut chin. The young pilots before him, while probably a little too good-looking for their own good, struck him as both green but very promising. He'd read their bios before accepting their assignment to his command, and was surprised to find that both Mimuras were the children of his old friend Hyosuke. He knew of Satoshi, who was now with Fleet, but he didn't get a chance to meet either of the younger boys. Of course, he'd heard about the odd young woman who became an ace at the academy as an MS pilot, a rarity, considering most of the female enlistees became noncombat officers or ship crews, least of all Infantry and Mobile Weapons qualifiers.

Yuki himself came from the ranks of Infantry, then transferred to Fleet Command when he'd gotten promoted enough to be a pilot, then an Executive Officer—on the _Vesalius, _no less—and then earned his own command after working at Boaz as an instructor. He was something of a protégé of Fleet Captain Addess, but didn't let that go to his head. He was generally a mild man, easy to work with and most considered him charming to an extent. By and large, Ray Yuki wasn't a man with any outstanding talents; instead, he served with dedication and steadfast reliability, preferring to let others do the grandstanding and hot-dogging.

He continued smiling. "As you can see, we're about to leave port. Once out of Boaz, I'll brief you on what our current mission profile is, and what your duty assignment aboard the _Solomon_ will be for the time being. Until then, you're dismissed to quarters. Relax, shake the dust off your shoes, and get settled. We have a long ride ahead."

"_Taicho!"_ Kunio nodded smartly, and turned on his heel, gesturing for the others in his command to follow suit—which they did, almost as one entity, filing into a lift tube and disappearing soon after.

_What a strange group of pilots! _Yuki reflected with amusement, before redirecting his attention to the launch of the _Solomon._ To his navigator, he asked, "Are we currently still hooked up to Boaz?"

"No sir," The fresh-faced ensign said, taking a moment to listen to his earpiece. "We're fully cleared for launch."

Yuki nodded, resting a hand on the forward rail of the command deck. "Take us out, one-quarter thrust. Plot a rendezvous course with the _Jericho_ and _Aurora."_

"Aye sir. Engaging engines, rendezvous point is at Green two, Yellow ten, distance fifty. ETA two minutes."

There was a slight lurch, and Yuki was forced to hold on tight to the railing as the four main engines of the _Solomon_ engaged at a quarter of their full potential, propelling the Nazca ship out of the main Boaz docking bay at a stately pace.

The rooms they found weren't bad at all. As commissioned officers, they received accommodations that allowed each a small, private room, in the gravity-controlled section of the ship, where all the crew quarters were. Theirs however, were closest to the ship's centrally-located launch bay, within easy access during an emergency or immediate combat deployment. Only one deck down was the pilots' lounge, and beyond that, the actual bay. Each room was outfitted with a bunk, a desk, a desk-terminal computer, and a tiny bathroom with a shower unit. Surprisingly, Fleet Logistics also gave them a standard-issue potted plant and towel. Not far away were the commander's quarters, which were, by extension, more opulent, but not by very much; after all, it was a warship, not a luxury liner.

Once they knew the ship was underway, and their bags were unpacked save for their flight gear, which would be put in their lockers, they headed up to the bridge, drifting in noiselessly.

On the way, Nagisa said lowly to Kunio, "Do you think we're in for action, so soon?"

Their dark-haired front man only shrugged, as the lift doors opened. "Your guess is as good as mine, Nagi."

They found Yuki-taicho standing near a holographic projection unit, which was mounted onto the center of a tactical map-table, currently displaying the immediate planetary space around Boaz and the edge of ZAFT territory. Everything beyond the tinted emerald sectors was either no-man's land, or Earth Alliance space.

After they fell in and announced themselves, Yuki gave them a rundown of their situation, his hands flat on the table. "Ever since the fiasco at Heliopolis, the La Cruise squadron has been chasing the Naturals' newest mobile weapon, the GAT-X105 'Strike' and its carrier vessel. So far, they've had little progress, and despite running down the Alliance's 8th fleet, destroying Eurasia's Artemis base, and chasing them halfway across the Earth sector, have only managed to force the ship to ground on Earth, out of our hands."

No one dared remark that those states represented an awful lot of collateral damage. Two space colonies, a fleet…no one could doubt that the La Cruise team was incredibly destructive.

"Currently," the Captain circled the section of space between Earth and Boaz, which included the L3 colony, "We're shifting our forces. Since we lost the _Gamoff, _and _Vesalius_ is damaged, more ships are being cycled in to patrol this, the most turbulent sector of space. Admiral La Cruise is back in the homeland, answering a High Council inquiry about Heliopolis—L3—and he's taken valuable resources with him. We—the 4th task force—have been assigned to take over their patrol routes and secure this sector. Additionally…" He paused for a moment to change a screen, causing the four to step back slightly for a more comprehensive view.

"We're going to be doing some intelligence gathering. Between Boaz, L3, and the Moon, there is a _lot_ of space. We believe that while we currently have the superior space technology, the Naturals' recent ability to produce mobile suits, even in limited quantities, is alarming, and could possibly change the tide in the war." Yuki stated darkly, looking each pilot in the eye. No one turned away, but they were far from silent now.

"Sir, what can a single fleet group do to stop development we don't know about?" Nagisa asked semi-casually, leaning back slightly, feeling his feet leave the deck.

Yuki smirked. This boy would have to learn to trust his superiors. "Recon. We're going to go in deep and start watching the enemy as close as we can. We'll find out what they're doing on the Moon, near L3, anything."

"Recon duty?" Kunio asked suspiciously.

The captain nodded sagely. "You're being temporarily issued two ZGMF-LRR-704b GiNN Recon two-seater types, for use in the next few missions."

"Why two seats, sir?" Suzuka inquired, adjusting her stance. She didn't see the need for two pilots in one mobile suit.

"One person pilots, the other person handles the sensitive sensor equipment." Yuki explained with infinite patience. He needed to remind himself that these pilots, though of the 'elite' grouping, were still fresh recruits. "Don't look so glum; it's an under-appreciated mission profile, but very hard to do well, and also one of the most dangerous assignments. Your saving grace will be how well you can slip in and out, undetected."

"Deep into enemy territory. Little backup, huh?" Doyle commented dryly, scrutinizing the course layout of the _Solomon_ and her companions. "High-risk, low survival chances?"

"Essentially." Yuki affirmed with a nod. "Though, that's the reason you all were chosen for this detail. All of you are highly qualified, top-notch soldiers in both piloting skill _and_ technical knowledge. There's no better mix for special operations pilots."

"Those damned Naturals," Suzuka mused quietly, "Deciding to make mobile suits. Now things can _really _get messy."

Kunio felt the urge to reprimand Suzuka for her derogatory commentary, but he knew it out be out of line and far too out of character. He might have felt differently, and even have joined in, if not for the presence of Nagisa in his life, but with a strong tie to a Natural, he felt very sympathetic. In spite of this, he remained silent.

"True that." Yuki-taicho shoved off from the display table, soaring towards the relatively low ceiling bulkhead, stopping himself with a hand. "Your first mission won't be for a few hours, but I suggest you get used to those Recon GiNNs fast. Dismissed."

"Yes sir, understood." Kunio saluted, and before he could even gesture, he saw his fellows drifting to the back of the bridge, anticipating his orders.

Nagisa sighed. This sounded like a pretty tedious detail: look around, snoop around until you got shot at, and figure out if what shot at you was better than what shot at you _last time._ Essentially, target practice for the enemy. That didn't sound appealing, and left a bad taste in his mouth. Not exactly his top choice in assignments, but that was the way of things. He had no right to complain, but he _could_ be dissatisfied.

"Snoop and poop, how about that?" He said to no one in particular as they rode the lift down to the median deck.

Doyle snorted, stretching his arms. "No shit. Guess our luck runs out _here._"

"Better hope not," Kunio said sternly, facing the door. "If it runs out now, we're star-food."

"Good point." Suzuka chimed in, the first out of the lift when the elevator doors parted. "Kunio, who's doing what then, since not all of us are piloting?"

Kunio paused, freefalling into the corridor, passing a couple of crewers and offering passing nods. He considered the question for a long moment. He would pilot one of the Long-Range Recon units, and he supposed that it would be best to have someone scientifically capable to do the sensor work. Unfortunately, both Nagisa and Suzuka were equally qualified for either, and Doyle was also well versed with engineering. It was a toss-up.

"Who wants what? I'm taking the wheel on one." Kunio stated.

Nagisa shrugged. "I'll pilot, if that's okay."

"Knew you'd say that." Doyle grinned. He looked over at Suzuka. "Who do you want to ride with?"

"Ladies first? How gentlemanly." She smiled cynically, before lifting her hands in surrender. "I'll go with Nagisa, I like his flying style better. No offense, Kunio, you're just too straight-arrow."

"Uh-_huh."_ Kunio nodded knowingly, suspecting there was a little more to that decision than what was being presented, but unwilling to probe further. Even though a little on-edge because of the impending sortie, he managed a smile. "Looks like I get to hang on to Lyles for now. We'll be able to trash talk more that way I guess."

As if to prove the point, Doyle grinned, headed for his room. "Hell yes, _sir."_

After grabbing their flight gear from their bags, they took to the halls, pulled along by the locomotion treads located on the sides of the bulkheads. By simply putting a hand on one, they were dragged along until they let go. In the locker room, which was just a jaunt away, they changed into their flight suits, finding a couple of pilots already laying about the pilot's lounge.

When it came to Suzuka's turn to change, nobody seemed to notice. Though there were few female pilots in the mobile suit corps, the soldiers respectfully paid no mind as she got dressed in the same crimson and gray flight suit as her friends. Two orange stripes adorned her gray shoulders and red arms, and her fingers towed her dark garnet helmet along. The one thing she disliked about the flight suits of any variety were that they were rather form-fitting, showing off her curves more than she felt comfortable with. Putting modesty aside though, she met up with the guys, pulling her scrunchies out of her hair, and placing one on each wrist, so she could slip on a helmet without a struggle.

They were talking to the other pilots, all of who were GiNN pilots, around their own age. There was Drake, a dark-skinned, seasoned junior-grade, Elias, an ensign, and Katagiri, a Major, commander of that GiNN squad. The other pilots were either out on leave, aboard the _Jericho,_ or just in their rooms.

"Ready to go?" Suzuka asked, hanging in between Nagisa and Kunio, poking her head into the group.

Nagisa nodded. "Ready. Kunio, Lyles?"

"Let's do this." Lyles said, bolting for the door, which opened with a whirr as it detected his presence. "I don't like the assignment, but whatever. I want to see how these things work."

"Fall in people." Kunio said, and led the way.

The ZGMF-LRR-704b recon GiNN was something of an oddball. Painted black, dark gray, and dark purple, and splotches of orange, with the standard red monoeye, it wasn't very good-looking. It was almost identical to the GiNN, but had extra fuel tanks behind the legs, and a modified chest compartment to house two flight crewers. In addition to added verniers, it carried a long-barrel sniper rifle instead of the MM1-M8A3 machinegun, and no sword. They also carried a large array of sensor antennae, as well as a modified head fin. Two of these unsightly beasts sat in the belly of the _Solomon,_ prepped for launch on the order of Captain Yuki. When the four pilots of the Mimura squad showed up, the maintenance crews asked what was the matter—after introductions—and then let them get in.

Nagisa settled into the forward flight chair, feeling a bit cramped in the tightly-packed cockpit. The flight controls, fortunately, seemed identical to the GiNN trainer. There was only a little bit of variation as to where certain indicators and switches were, but nothing he didn't understand. As he sealed his helmet, the visor coming down with a click, he heard Suzuka slip in behind him. Then, he removed his helmet, remembering something.

_The disc…_he thought suddenly, feeling the square data disc's pressure against his jugular. How was he going to get the disc in, and override the standard OS to replace with his MS-DOS, with her watching? He felt his pulse pounding in his ears and his heart seemed to leap into his throat. He needed to think quickly.

"_Oy! Suzuka!"_ Doyle's voice called from a few meters below, floating near the Long-Range's knees. "_Oy!"_

_Thank god…_Nagisa sighed, as Suzuka rushed out of the cockpit, grumbling about overactive testosterone. She floated away, leaving him to his business of powering up the Long-Range.

"What?" Suzuka said, her voice muffled because of her helmet. Nagisa ignored her chat with Lyles and began inputting his modifications, removing the disc, placing it in the reader, uploading the OS, replacing the disc, and rebooting the entire system, causing the appearance of a failed startup. To observers, it would look as if he'd just run into a stubborn mobile suit. He prayed silently as seconds melted away, counting down until when MS-DOS would take hold and clandestinely rewrite the system. When he heard a crash behind him as Suzuka disdainfully settled in again, he saw that the system was already prepped for flight.

In effort to make conversation, as the hatch closed, he looked over his shoulder, adjusting his helmet. "You alright, Suzie?"

"Fine." The young woman replied with a gruff rasp. "Doyle's just being annoying."

"Probably just worried about you. So am I." Nagisa said, checking the systems and waiting for Kunio's word to launch. He added helpfully, "I think we're all a little nervous, you know? First sortie and all."

"Yeah," Suzuka smiled faintly, accepting the olive branch-bearing surrogate. "It'll pass. We ready to get going?"

"Just about." Within moments, they got clearance to get on the linear catapult and make a patrol run ahead of the _Solomon_ and the escort ships. With Kunio as squadron leader, in the top slot, they followed him out, launched simultaneously by the two catapults, streaking into the dark of space. Nagisa was pushed back into his seat, and Suzuka let out a groan. It was a few days since their last flight, enough time to get a little disaccustomed to the multiple g's of a launch.

"Long-Range 2 clear." Nagisa said over the comm unit, patching into the squadron link with Kunio and Doyle's unit, which flew a dozen meters ahead of them. "Orders?"

Kunio, inside his own snooper MS, fiddled with the controls a little, adjusting the trim and speed, gesturing with a gigantic mechanical arm to his wingmate. "Follow me. We're going to put these Recon types through some maneuvers, and see if anyone's tagging along with us."

"Copy."

The two Recon units, sniper rifles in hand, began chasing each other through some fairly standard flight patterns, taking turns to be in the lead. Nagisa discovered that the Recon unit was slightly more difficult to pilot, as it had added mass and a different distribution profile, but it wasn't anything he would have to adjust for in the OS. All it took was a few tentative rolls and turns to get a real feel for how the machine handled. There was a disconcerting tendency to want to veer right because of the inordinately long barrel of the main gun, but that was about it. It was faster than the standard GiNN, but not more maneuverable.

"Sensors?" He asked Suzuka, leaning back in his flight chair.

The nineteen-year-old Coordinator gave a noncommittal sigh, as she scanned her screens, detecting no enemy presence around them. Initially, she had to work at finding what gain levels and scan settings to use, but the equipment itself wasn't anything unorthodox. In fact, they were all schooled on how to use basic scanning gear, so the complex electronics of the LRR were only a couple of steps removed from that. It wasn't anything she couldn't figure out.

"All quiet on the western front, boys." She said into her helmet microphone pickup. "I don't suppose we're close enough to any enemy installations yet to pick up any Earth Alliance craft."

"Same here." Doyle reported sedately, tapping some keys on the diagnostic keyboard. "Hell, this place is just _empty_, from here to sector seven and L3. Of course, that excludes the debris belt, but we're not _going_ there…are we?"

"No," Kunio said firmly. "We're to stick around the _Solomon_ and act as an advance scout until otherwise notified. Captain Yuki's orders."

"Alright…. hey…what the hell is _that?" _ Doyle swore, pulling up a tight-beam scan. "Check that out, Kunio!"

Suzuka was already on it. Ahead of them was an unusual concentration of dense materials, drifting in a loose arrangement of clumps and sporadic walls of rock, metal, and plastics. _Something_ died here, something _huge._ "Looks like a station…but…there aren't any stations here…"

"Not anymore," Kunio countered pointedly, bringing his mobile suit to an abrupt halt with a flurry of jets. "Check your maps. This is where the Umbrella of Artemis used to be. We're not at L3 yet, but drift could have caused this."

There was no mistaking it. At the very center of the wreckage was a blown out core of rock and asteroid ore, with metal protruding here and there. They still weren't anywhere close enough to actually be seen from there, but they weren't taking chances. The fleet was far behind them, and they were a little too far from backup.

"How far is the _Solomon_ from our position?" Nagisa asked, a little unnerved. This would be the perfect place to set up an ambush, if one wanted to. It was practically on Boaz's and Jachin Due's doorstep, near L5—PLANT—the primary reason Artemis was there originally. Now nothing more than a burnt-out hulk, it was so much floating rubble. But rubble meant cover, and cover meant hidden units.

Suzuka checked her map screen. "Yellow five hundred, Green One, Mach 20 Alpha. At present speed…they'll be here in ten minutes."

Kunio resisted the urge to spit. His hands flying across his dash, and then gripping the flight bars tightly, he spoke into the link. "Keep scanning for any enemy activity. We're not going to back up from here until we're sure there aren't any nasty surprises for Captain Yuki and the task force. Radio silence protocols unless you come into contact with the enemy, or I recall."

Nagisa replied with a double click of his communications unit, and cut his microphone off so he could talk to Suzuka without broadcasting his speech for kilometers around. Gently, he guided his LRR towards the ruins, following Kunio's visual cues and mobile suit's hand signals. In a backdrop of black and gray-brown, the unit was almost invisible save for its occasional bursts of vernier rockets, and telltale heat signature when those thrusters came to life.

"This place gives me the creeps…" Nagisa hardly noticed that he'd said that aloud, as he strained his eyes for signs of any Earth Alliance craft or other movement. They weren't far from the remains of Heliopolis, either…

Suzuka was busily working the sensors. "This debris is really mucking up my reception. Can you bring us in closer, so I don't have to bounce through so much crap?"

Nagisa obliged by tapping the thrusters a little more, using them judiciously as to not produce a bright heat trail that would give them away to any would-be ambushers. Ahead of him, the warped helix of the now-uninhabited station platform blotted out the stars, and every so often he thought he could see a rather disturbing sight: bodies, flash-frozen in mid-death, now lifeless blobs of orbiting carbon. He focused hard to not notice them.

"I'm getting something here…it's kind of faint. Hold up."

The LRR came up against a boulder, and stayed put, twirling about along with the skyscraper-sized rock as it spun on all three axes. The movement generated a strange sort of gravity that made it feel as if they were all strapped in sideways to the inside of the MS. "God…"

"That's it…" Suzuka said loudly. "Listen to this."

She turned up the audio volume and the gain so that Nagisa could hear it in the chair ahead of her. All the while she fought to dispel the notion that she was on a bad carnival ride in a sixty-five foot, cramped coffin.

_"Alpha…-bravo seven come closer---Moon base?" _a faint, static-filled voice said in incomplete snippets as the signal degraded either due to distance, or the rubble. "_towing…---how much more---recovery squa---"_

"That's _definitely_ not natural." Nagisa said eventually, shaking his head. What were people doing around here? This place was just _trash_. Then a thought occurred to him, even before Suzuka began an analysis of the code signal. _One man's trash is another's treasure…_

"I'll bet you five credits that we just sniffed out a Eurasian recovery crew." Nagisa said, shifting the GiNN Recon so that it was crouched on the twirling piece of space ore. "Tight beam that to Kunio, see what he thinks. Line of sight only."

"Hai, wakarimashita." Hayes-Sato worked quickly and deftly, angling a laser-light transmission to the other GiNN Recon unit in the area. It took multiple attempts before the other unit received the signal because of their erratic rotation, but eventually she got a signal bounced back.

maintain radio silence, sneak in for closer peek—kunkun.

copy. She sent the terse message back to their squad leader and relayed the information to Nagisa in the command chair.

"The hell?" Doyle muttered, strapped tightly into the sensor officer's chair in Kunio's sardine-can GiNN Recon, fogging up his visor with the scoff he emitted. This was a little too much to bear: first they stumble upon the Artemis wreck, then a recovery squad. What the hell could they have been hoping to recover, in a total write-off like Artemis?

"Huh?" Kunio grunted inquisitively, edging the GiNN ever closer towards the source of the emissions. To achieve this, a stealthy approach, he resorted to the precarious practice of pushing off from rock to rock, groping out with his mobile suit's arms for support here and there, eventually coming to a soft landing on the second-largest chunk of rock-ruin.

"Whatever it is they're trying to recover here," Lyles started, flipping between screens, "I can't make heads or tails of it. The N-Jammers are fouling up my readings like all hell, almost as much as the rocks."

_Neutron Jammers…_Kunio thought bitterly. A necessary evil, to stop the fast-neutron bombardments that caused nuclear reactions, otherwise there would be no telling how many nuclear missiles would be crossing space to hit PLANT or vice-versa. He didn't doubt for a moment that the Earth Alliance would try to use nukes again if they were able. He may have felt brotherly love for a Natural, but one good person didn't make everyone _else_ good either. He wasn't as trusting as Nagisa, no, not in the least. Not nearly as naïve.

"See what you can do to clean it up." Kunio ordered. "How long until _Solomon_ gets here?"

There was a momentary silence, a few clicks. "Seven minutes. About five before whoever it is begins to notice that something big and mean this way cometh." This Lyles said in English, for emphasis.

"Any idea what's out there?" Kunio asked, treading carefully closer to the 'terminator' separating them from the concentration of the emissions. If he went too far, he might been seen visually, no matter how low-profile a Recon GiNN was. He was also mindful to keep the obscene head-fin under cover as well.

"From these signals, I'd say at least five different units. Give them a ship or two…" Doyle did a quick tally in his head from what he'd learned about Eurasian military craft. "Maybe ten mobile armors? A frigate? Who knows?"

"We could be facing a task force-sized group." Mimura concluded gravely. This didn't bode well, and they had to warn the _Solomon_ of the impending danger. However, so far out, and deep in the rubble, they were out of communication with their command ship. Someone would have to go and tell the _Solomon, _while someone else sat in on the Eurasians, playing a dangerous game of hide and seek. Whoever remained behind would eventually have to fight in the Recon GiNN.

As he was the leader, it was natural that he take responsibility. Kunio looked over his shoulder. "Beam Nagisa and Suzuka. I'm ordering them back to the _Solomon, _as fast as they can, so they can give the Captain a warning. Try and get the _Solomon_ to come in from a higher angle and surprise the enemy."

Doyle nodded, and worked hard to condensing the message as much as possible for an accurate transmission.

go warn solomon. advise coming in at red thirteen, orange thirty beta. we cover.The message from Kunio's unit was short but got to the point. It was now a direct order from the squad leader. Nagisa didn't want to leave Doyle and Kunio behind, but he couldn't refuse; there wasn't any time to argue the point, as the _Solomon_ was about five minutes from the potential engagement zone, one minute at the recon GiNN's full acceleration.

Putting as much solid rock between him and the remains of Artemis, Nagisa turned the twenty-meter black GiNN around and pushed, headed towards the direction that they came from, throwing the throttle to the max. Both he and Suzuka were suddenly glued to their seats in an already constricting cabin.

"How…long…do we keep this up?" Suzuka asked, as they passed three g.

"A Slalom's worth." He said behind gritted teeth, checking his indicators. No one seemed to be following behind then, and now he could just detect the _Solomon_ at the edge of his sensors. They were going to be in range soon.

"…GiNN Recon 2…in." a voice crackled unsteadily.

"_Solomon, _this is GiNN Recon 2 Lieutenant J.G. Mimura, we have Earth Alliance units up ahead in an asteroid ruin, repeat, we have enemy units." Nagisa said as soon as he was sure the transmission was coming from the _Solomon. _ As of on cue, he could now make out the outlines of the _Solomon,_ _Aurora_, and _Jericho._

"Lieutenant, this is Yuki. There are Naturals hiding out at the Artemis ruins?" The older man's voice was loud and clear now.

"Yes sir, Kunio is still over there, he covered our retreat so we could get you the word." Nagisa confirmed, slowing the GiNN down, as Suzuka warned him he was going too fast. The Autobalancer did the rest, killing their angular momentum. "Looks to be a task-force sized recovery crew. Probably picking up after we smashed them last month."

"Understood, Lieutenant. Nagisa, Suzuka, recover to the _Solomon_ and get out of the GiNN Recon." Yuki said as they neared. The mouth of the launch bay was lining up with them, and Nagisa pivoted around so that they drifted in, back first. When they bungled into the crash webbing, they were none too gently pulled to a halt.

"Sir?" Suzuka asked.

There was a chuckle. "You'll see, Lieutenant Hayes-Sato."

-**_End of Phase 4.  
_**

A broken fortress, two youths trapped in a tight place. Never before for these young men and women have the stars shined so ominously, in this place of death and destruction. Trading fire with the enemy, it becomes obvious how real this war is. In the chaos, a new star burns brighter than the others.

That deadly light---Make it your own, Gundam!

_Phase 5 of Mobile Suit Gundam SEED: Fog of War - The stars from Hell!_


	5. The Stars From Hell

**_Author's Notes: _**As promised, the second installment of this double-update. As a side note, some oldschool Gundam fans will notice that I put in some similarities from the Universal Century into my explanation of MS mechanics. One reason for this is that if 'it ain't broke don't fix it'—UC had a lot of rather elegant solutions for common Sci-Fi problems. The second reason is that, unfortunately, unlike UC Gundam and Minovsky Physics, the SEED universe is much less thoroughly fleshed-out in terms of how things work. Besides, it seemed rather obvious to use autobalancers…

**Disclaimer: ** See first chapter.

**Phase 5: The Stars from Hell**

First Lieutenant Mimura Kunio could hardly believe his bad luck. It wasn't that he was in enemy-held territory, probably up against a large number of mobile armor units, fighters, and at least one frigate-sized ship. It also wasn't that he was in a field of debris so irregular and reflective that he could barely detect the enemy and possible reinforcements either.

What really made him rue the day he signed up for service was that he was going to have to fight in a GiNN Long Range Recon unit, with a 100mm APSV sniper rifle as his only weapon. It didn't help that the two-seater GiNN LRR was only large enough for him to move his arms to control the unit, and lean back an inch before jostling Doyle's sensor screens.

"More with less," He said sarcastically under his breath, marching the GiNN further towards a better rock outcropping to snipe from and take cover in. It wouldn't hold up to a blast from the frigate he now saw hanging like a gray dagger in space just to high one o'clock, but the craggy ravine was _deep,_ and its shadow would hide him well. He cocked the outsize-barreled rifle and kept watch. "Lyles?"

"Doesn't seem they've taken notice. I'm picking up about fifteen mobile armors…and about as many recovery pods. They're definitely hauling something out of here that just couldn't be towed." Doyle raised a gray-and-red gloved set of hands, cracking his knuckles through his pressure suit. This was absurd, he'd admit readily to that, but it sure was a rush. He just wished he were piloting, instead of being stuck in the backseat. A beep alerted him to a change. "Heads up, looks like someone's coming our way."

"_Kuso…_" Kunio swore, easing into the shadows a little more. Suddenly, he wished his GiNN didn't have an imposing, brightly-glowing red monoeye to act as a beacon for his enemies. He looked at his tracking scopes and saw that one of the little recovery haulers was moving serenely in their direction, towards what appeared to be a maintenance shaft that had been ripped open by the explosion that tore the space fortress apart during its death. Kunio, in the almost entirely black mobile suit, lifted his rifle slowly, aiming a shot, just in case.

The hauler wasn't very big, maybe half the size of a GiNN. Its two grappler arms and little outboard thrusters weren't geared towards combat and evasive action, but it could probably pull or push several tons of material to salvage whatever its masters thought was necessary. Painted an unseemly beehive yellow, it was a boxy thing that moved along on a pair of rear-facing verniers. When the onboard computer recognized it, it flashed as a MAW-01 Mistral type mobile armor/salvage vehicle. It soared near the 'horizon line' of the asteroid, far too off course to be heading to the shaft now. "Go away, damn you. Out of my sky."

Then it suddenly corrected, evidently because the outcroppings were blocking the most direct route. Now, it turned, headed for the shaft, and facing in _their direction._ It stopped suddenly. It saw them.

"Dumbass!" Before he knew it, Kunio pressed the firing stud on his control bar, jarring the sturdy GiNN Recon with a single shot from the high-powered three-inch artillery sniper rifle. The big APSV round slammed into the nearby salvage craft with brutal accuracy, ripping it into two pieces as the accompanying explosion sundered the rock outcropping, gouging out a small crater. He didn't know how many people were in the thing, but it looked like it could fit at least two.

"Maybe they'll think it crashed." Kunio said hopefully, knowing it was a long shot. "What are they saying?"

Doyle listened in on the UHF band and pulse code radio. At this range, it was easy to eavesdrop on their conversation, as they were practically _inside_ the enemy formation. Doyle didn't bother relaying it, he just put it on the speaker.

"Do you think it crashed?" One person asked frantically.

There was a pause. "Maybe, but at that speed? Someone go send a Mobius Zero out there to see what the hell is going on."

"Copy, lead."

"Do you think ZAFT is here?"

"Hope not, those damned Coordinators give me the heebie-jeebies…wouldn't want to run into them _here_ of all places. It's their fault we're dragging this shit out of—"

And it went on in that track.

"Incoming." Doyle said, though he felt he hardly needed to, as he could already feel the mobile suit springing into action with all the grace of a drunken circus actor, as it jumped out of the crevasse. He held on for dear life. _This is going to get rough._

Inbound on their position was one of the notoriously hard-to-kill Mobius Zero type mobile armors, already launching its four gun-pods, trying to target Kunio and Doyle in their dark recon unit. For all his complaints about the 704b, Kunio found that it responded well enough to his commands, as he leapt out of the way of an enfilade of artillery fire from the gun pods that could easily have shredded the mobile suit. He had to give the Naturals some credit where it was due; those Mobius-types were pretty decent.

_Not decent enough,_ he thought as he readjusted his bearing, spun, backing away from another shot that came too close for comfort on his left shoulder, and fired the sniper rifle with another thud. True to the red targeting sights on his screen, he watched with gratification as a weapons pod detonated dramatically, a half-second from firing what could have been a shot to end his life.

"Time to show them why we're faster, stronger, and _better,"_ he said, not caring for political correctness anymore, in the heat of the space duel with his unnamed enemy. This was what his training was for; so he could do more with less, against bad odds, because he was_ engineered_ to be stronger, smarter, and quicker on his toes than the pilot of that Zero. That it was his first firefight didn't dawn on him quite yet, as he was absorbed in his piloting. A howl from behind him informed Kunio that he'd scored another hit.

"Look out, on our five o'clock down, another MA," Doyle yelled over the din, as shots passed close enough to graze the paint job on the GiNN. The odds were getting worse. The Zero was almost unarmed now, but he had a _lot_ of friends waiting to take a shot at him.

A sudden alarm caught Doyle's attention. "Break high, break _high!"_

Kunio, trusting Lyles implicitly, threw the humanoid fighter into a thruster-powered mid-air leap, evacuating the space he'd been in as it was abruptly transformed into a swath of angry, bright green energy. His eyes traced the shot back to its origin, and he discovered with no small amount of dread that the Eurasian frigate was firing on them. That made them outnumbered _and_ outgunned.

Calmly, but with some irritation, he swung the barrel of the 100mm rifle over his left arm, letting go with the left hand for movement's sake, and snapped off a quick shot in that same direction.

The frigate—an _Agamemnon_ class vessel--might have rocked as the heavy anti-armor round connected, right with the double-barreled turret that just fired on the wily mobile suit, destroying the weapons emplacement neatly, thereby eliminating that threat. Unfortunately, there was more where _that_ came from, and the other forward portside battery opened up on them with a rain of fire.

"Sir, the GiNN is taking evasive, and trying to break for it." The tactical officer aboard the Eurasian _Agamemnon_ Destroyer _Lusitania_, which was now erupting into the pandemonium of a ship at war, had to shout to be heard. Officers in vac-suits sat at their consoles, all focusing on the task of covering their mobile armors and recovery vehicles.

"Godfreit number two, destroyed!" Another officer reported, causing the captain to take notice. That GiNN was doing terrific damage for a lone _reconnaissance _unit.

"Damn that ZAFT monster from space!" The captain, a middle-aged man from the Eurasian Continent growled. "Focus your fire on it, and make sure you don't kill our own people!"

"Heat sources sir, ten of them!" Someone cried out over the wailing klaxons. "Mobile suits approaching!"

Inside the Recon GiNN, jostled about this way and that, Doyle stared at his screen in amazement. For a bunch of amateurs, the Earth Alliance managed to scramble pretty damn well. Maybe he'd underestimated them. In any case, he wasn't there to appreciate their tactical and strategic intellect, just to dissect it enough to keep them alive until reinforcements arrived.

"Damn, I've got more units appearing…I can't even tell what the closest one is. Fucking static!" Doyle cursed, punching codes. Had they outflanked the GiNN? Kunio was currently pulling them into a tight turn that was illegal in most traffic zones, coming back around at a forty-degree angle at such high speed that Doyle almost blacked out, seeing spots as they came out of it. A second later they were jarred as a missile tore off the giant LRR's foot.

"Damage to right foot." Doyle warned.

Kunio was red. "I know."

"Damage to left shoulder, Boss." Doyle figured that if he was going to die in that 'mobile coffin' he was going to do so in as blasé a fashion as possible.

"I KNOW!"

In front of them, one of the ubiquitous, dual-nacelle design mobile armors—a TS-MA2 Mobius—coasted into view, firing its heavy vulcans, firing off a large, oblong missile for good measure. The outsize ballistic implement came roaring at them with all the glamour of a giant, solid-fuel propelled medicine tablet.

"Come on!" Kunio growled, firing the sniper rifle once, killing the missile in a brilliant ball of flame. It hid its mobile armor owner long enough that he couldn't track it, and another hit ripped the left arm fully off.

"Left arm---"

"Shut up, Doyle! I know!"

Doyle then said something useful, as the mobile suit pitched to one side and he was suddenly squeezed into a corner by angular momentum "Hey, incoming, break left!"

As the GiNN veered sharply away from another missile, the space where the previous mobile armor was—just to their right—became a blinding shaft of light, debris, and jetsam, and the force of the nearby detonation almost hurled the seventy-eight metric ton monster right off course.

Kunio's roving eyes glanced up as he lifted the GiNN's head, focusing the eye on whatever it was that had just taken apart the enemy unit.

Streaking in from above was a silver-gray unit, burning a path at high speed for their direction, two lines of high-caliber machinegun fire issuing from somewhere on the body, and a large, menacing rifle slung in one hand, a shield in the other. And, to Kunio's amazement and unending gratitude, its head lit up with a single, scarlet point of light.

"It's one of ours!" the squadron commander cried gleefully, swerving to avoid _colliding_ with the rip-roaring mobile suit, which quickly adjusted its momentum, raised a shield, blocking a few gun hits, and then opened up with a well-placed shot to a Mobius' midsection with a green shaft of light. "ZAFT Mobile suit, Identify!"

"Sorry we're late for the party, Kunio." Nagisa's grinning face appeared on a side screen, sitting alone inside a mobile suit that looked much more comfortable than the low-rent housing that was the GiNN recon. His display suddenly lit up with beamed ID numbers: ZGMF/YFR-600 GuAIZ, Lt. J.G. Mimura.

The two mobile suits were trying to jink and juke to evade blasts coming in from almost all directions, but now that reinforcements had arrived—at least ten GiNNs, and another of the unknown MS types that Nagisa was piloting, a gold yellow beast with dual rail guns and an impressive flight lifter—they were slightly more free to move about unencumbered by suppressing fire. That advantage wouldn't last long though.

"Go back and recover to the _Solomon, _and this time we'll cover _you."_ Suzuka's voice came in over the squadron-only frequency. He couldn't tell immediately where she was, but Kunio imagined she was close by, judging from how battle alarms could be heard through the transmission.

Kunio scoffed. "And leave you guys alone?"

"Hardly," Nagisa said, firing off a shot with that black beam rifle of his while executing a barrel roll that forced him to break away from Kunio's side.

_Since when do we have beam rifles?_ Kunio wondered. Now wasn't the time to think on that though, and he was already picking up unwanted company. Pushing the GiNN as hard as it would go, he blasted away from his current location, just in time to avoid another salvo from a group of sluggish but well-armed mobile armors firing multi-barreled CIWSs. Turning, with only one arm to hold out the large rifle, he aimed his shot as best he could, and fired. He was now empty, with no left arm to reload the clip.

The force of the rifle's kickback, without the stabilizing benefit of a second arm, recoiled the entire GiNN back a few meters. Its hull became alight with a warm glow as the target in front of it became a ball of expanding, superheated gas.

"You're already messed up anyways, recover, sir." Suzuka added a second later.

"Copy that. Hold down the fort." Kunio said with some dissatisfaction. This was _his_ fight; he should have been the one to finish it. This was no way for a commander to leave the field of battle. It didn't appeal to his sense of military pathos or ethos.

There was a chortle on the other end, probably Nagisa. "Don't worry, we'll follow in your example. That was some flying."

Kunio smiled despite himself as he powered for the _Solomon, _which just now was emerging from behind a great slab of floating, jagged concrete, probably a sealing wall before the ZAFT attack on Artemis, weeks before. The bow of the mighty ship turned towards them, and the berth was open. To discourage anyone from following it in, the two 120 _centimeter_ anti-ship beam cannons came to life, cutting a destructive path through the darkness as the impulse streaks singed space vehemently.

Doyle whistled. "That…was more action in an escape pod than I'd care to _ever_ relive."

For once, Kunio was forced to agree with Lyles' snide humor.

Nagisa rolled his mobile suit out of the way of the oncoming attack from the _Solomon_, narrowly avoiding getting hit by his own ship. That would have been an ignominious fate indeed: crisped to death by your flagship's main gun while taking over a combat action.

When he and Suzuka returned to the _Solomon, _Captain Yuki himself greeted them in the launch bay, telling them to take two of their experimental units. These were the units on the _Solomon_ that the four pilots fresh off of Boaz were actually assigned to, as opposed to their temporary placement with the Recon GiNNs. They were literally fresh out of the MMI factory at Maius City, gleaming with galvanized metal.

What awaited him was a twenty-meter, twenty-four centimeter, eighty metric ton gray ghost of a mobile suit, with large rocket thrusters and verniers, an sweeping, flaring shoulder assembly, and a variety of weapons. The YFX-600R 'GuAIZ' Experimental Firearms Model was a test bed for new technologies that ZAFT was exploring both before and after the acquisition of four of Morgenrater's GAT-X series mobile suits. Only one was truly the Experimental Firearms version, the other three were more accurately what would be represented in the mass production version, if their flight tests proved the unit viable: the ZGMF-600 GuAIZ. All were equipped with two beam claws in the Composite Shield, to replace the aging GiNN sword, a pair of 76mm MM1-GAU2 'Picus' Close-In Weapons System, six-barreled, electric-powered vulcans, and an MM1-M20 'Lupus' experimental beam rifle. Suzuka, in the 600R, instead of a shield, carried two folding _Xiphias_ rail cannons and dual beam sabers, and a flight lifter with beam cannons and machine guns.

When Nagisa saw the Guaiz, as he was calling it, he fell instantly in love. Now, headed towards the thick of it with the new high-performance mobile suit, he felt powerful, capable, and clever. More so than he should have, he knew, but it was like being a child and in a candy store, a birthday gift from the whatever god of war which might have existed. Aside from being a rather nice piece of technology, his job was now slightly easier.

He spied a mobile armor trying to regroup—one of the last remaining ones, as Major Katagiri's GiNNs were making a clean sweep with a rushing maneuver—and leveled his Lupus rifle at it, targeting it squarely with the special zoom optics. A squeeze later and a vibrant line of green intersected with the target where the velocity sight designated it to, and the mobile armor became so many hydrogen atoms. Its partner accelerated to get clear from the flames, but he only became gun-fodder for a nearby GiNN's machinegun rounds.

_Sorry. _He didn't care if he'd just killed someone. There were too many people he cared about who were depending on him to defend them, too many innocent people who would die if he failed here.

Suzuka wasn't far away, and seeing that the mobile-weapon on mobile-weapon fight was dying down, with only a few Mistrals left, shifted her attention to the frigate that was steadily attempting to down the _Jericho_. It was scoring multiple hits, and the space between the two large ships was becoming a firestorm of small lines. She had to end this before the _Lurasia-_class went down.

Bringing her Guaiz to a relative stop, dodging dogged fire, she unfolded her Xiphias class rail guns towards the enemy frigate's bridge, which she stood only about two MS lengths from now, and fired. Yellow streaks crashed through the windows of the command deck, and the space behind it detonated stupendously, ushering in another gout of flame as the cruiser began to die.

"Got one." Suzuka pursed her lips and vectored away from the growing chain of blasts, not wanting to get caught in the blowback. "Anymore targets to splash, Nagisa?"

"I don't see anything." Came the prompt reply. "Looks like Major Katagiri beat us to the punch."

There was a commotion over the open channel as units began mopping up, and GiNNs from _Jericho_ and _Aurora_ littered the combat zone, securing the perimeter.

"Who in the Zodiac killed that Zero?" It was Katagiri, who seemed to have found the remains of the Mobius-type mobile armor somewhere on the lifeless rock formerly known as Artemis.

"That would probably be Lieutenant Mimura, sir." Nagisa replied calmly, prowling towards the edge of the zone. The only thing that seemed to be remaining in the combat area were a few remaining recovery craft, which were now being herded in by a flight of machinegun-armed GiNNs.

"Which one?"

"Kunio, sir." Nagisa answered, not hiding a touch of pride.

The space around the Artemis' graveyard had become a mess of molten debris, disturbed, flying rock, and the remains of one enemy frigate, breaking up here and there into smaller chunks. There didn't look to be any survivors from that wreck, Nagisa noted, seeing a conspicuous lack of escape pods. Then again, the way that Suzuka snuck up on the thing, no wonder there weren't any survivors. Well, that was one less thing to worry about. No sense in dwelling on it.

"Suzuka, on me. We're going back to the _Solomon."_ Nagisa said, turning his GuAIZ around, and engaging the main thrusters. He was pleasantly pressed down into his mildly uncomfortable flight chair, as faux gravity returned.

From his lower left, the other prototype suit came in, taking position next to him. "Got it. You know...I still don't get why we had to fight here. What did they _want_ with this junk?"

"We have survivors." Nagisa offered experimentally. "Let Intelligence drag it out of them. Not our problem."

Somehow, Suzuka begged to differ, but she kept quiet. The fact of the matter was that she wasn't going to find out unless the brass wanted her to, or she began to hold loose morals while on visits to Intel, and that just wasn't going to happen, not on her watch. What they did could stay their business.

But, she couldn't help wondering what exactly was so valuable to Eurasia and the Earth Alliance that they'd come so close to the PLANT homeland in order to salvage it.

Slowly and carefully, the two pilots navigated their MS into the hold of the _Solomon_ for minor repairs, re-supply, and some needed rest.

Exiting his GuAIZ quickly, Nagisa propelled himself with a kick of the feet as soon as the hatch had been lowered, cruising gracefully through the air as Suzuka's suit secured itself into a mooring berth. He was there only seconds before the chest compartment folded down and the Guaiz's pilot exited with a similar counterforce leap, straight towards him.

He caught her by the shoulders, and their combined momentum sent them sailing towards the gantry, landing with a clop of boots. Removing his helmet and stashing it under an arm, Mimura Nagisa gave her a grin. "Not bad for our first run."

"I'd say, but I have a feeling that our Fearless Leader is going to disagree." Suzuka said quietly, hooking a thumb towards the black, purple, and orange GiNN recon that sat dejectedly across the bay from them, ominously brooding after a mission that literally cost it an arm and a leg. Already, a repair crew was working towards severing the uneven parts so they could rotate in new limbs, and the Master Chief Petty Officer was shouting aggravated orders. CPO Country would be _dangerous_ country for the time being, so they made sure to avoid the Master Chief for a while.

"Hey!" Someone called from the end of the pilot gangway, at the end of the gantry. A crimson-clad figure waved.

Suzuka and Nagisa made their way towards Kunio, offering him a salute. He returned it, and stood observing them, as if something was wrong. After a second, his brown eyes looked away.

"What's eating you?" Nagisa asked, cocking his head to the side.

Kunio waved dismissively. "Nothing important. Just wish I'd done better out there."

"You kidding me, Kunio?" Suzuka was almost gaping. "You were hopelessly outnumbered. I don't care _how_ bad mobile armor are, enough of them can take anyone out. You did more than could be expected, especially in that goddamn Recon type. You took down a goddamn Mobius Zero too."

"Whatever happened to that business about the leader being the example to follow? I quit after half the fight." Kunio muttered as they walked into the pilots' lounge. There, Lyles, who sat on the couch distractedly looking at a little paperback, joined them. His hair was ruffled, his head bandaged slightly, but he didn't look to be very badly off. Kunio also seemed to have a couple of lumps, but nothing serious.

_Must have been a rough ride, _Nagisa concluded. He could only imagine what it must have been like, pulling those white-knuckle flight maneuvers in the cramped snooper unit. He said, "That's a myth and you know it."

"Oy." Doyle piped up from the couch, sitting up. Letting his book drift away, he floated towards them. "That was pretty slick, coming in that hot. What the hell _are_ those things anyway?"

As if his question wasn't already clear enough, he turned his manic gaze towards the launch bay and stabbed a finger towards one of the two recently-docked Guaizs, which were now crawling with technicians and repair crews, checking the frame for damage.

"ZGMF-600 Gu.A.I.Z." Suzuka said with self-mocking pedantic speech, closing her eyes and raising an imperious finger. "No, well…technically they're YFR-600Rs, Guaiz for short, Experimental Firearms mobile suits. We're supposed to be the testers, that's why we got assigned to _Solomon._"

Lyles screwed up his face, crossing his arms, now flying slowly away from them. "So getting crammed into those snoopers was just some sort of test Yuki-taicho cooked up?"

Nagisa's eyes widened slightly. "Yes and no. He really _did_ need a recon detail, and he wanted us to prove ourselves. He said as much while we were getting in the Guaizs."

"Sounds like a fun guy after all," muttered the blond pilot, shaking his head. "Man, Master Chief Jorge is going to kill us for messing up that GiNN."

"You borrow the car and crash it," Kunio said, breaking his unusual silence with a thin smile, "And that is what tends to happen, Lyles." He felt odd, coming out of the GiNN and waiting for the end of the operation. What surprised Kunio the most wasn't finding out about how the captain was actually testing them, but rather that Yuki-taicho told _Nagisa_ first. He was the leader of the unit, so it reflected on him that he was being viewed as inept as to be circumvented. Then again, if the tested know they're being tested, then control is lost. Kunio settled for the opinion that he was being paranoid.

One thing did strike him as amusing: Nagisa was turning out to be pretty good at making himself a leader of sorts, guiding Suzuka, and taking over the unit in the heat of battle. He would make note to keep Nagisa in a position to back him up, or take on responsibilities as required. Personally, Kunio trusted Nagisa implicitly, but he had to gauge all of his soldiers professionally before translating personal trust into a commander's reliance on a particular pilot to accomplish a given task or fulfill a role. It was incumbent upon him to keep his personal feelings to himself in his decision-making process. That was hard though, when every member of your team is a close friend, and one is your brother. Despite this, Kunio felt himself to be the most fortunate squad leader in ZAFT.

"All of you did well today. Even you Doyle." Kunio said teasingly, grinning. He'd gotten a little hot under the collar at the nonchalant, dark humor that Lyles displayed during the firefight, but he knew that it was the older pilot's way of dealing with the thin line between life and death. Whatever helped with dealing with such a daunting prospect was a good thing.

"Something happen?" Nagisa asked, chuckling.

Doyle spoke up from the other end of the room, placing his paperback in his locker. He was already dressed in his uniform instead of his flight suit. "Just some battle babble. You know, the standard 'we're doomed', 'we lost an arm' shtick."

"You never belay the johnwayne, do you?" Suzuka asked, unimpressed.

Doyle gave her a prim salute as he flew towards them at speed. "Never, ma'am."

Suzuka smiled tiredly, before going towards her locker to change. "Men."

Aboard the bridge of the _Solomon, _Captain Yuki scanned the battle statistics from the recent engagement at Artemis' ruin reef. ZAFT lost two mobile suits, four were damaged, including one of their two GiNN recons, and would take a while to repair; the _Jericho_'s portside engine was struggling, but would soon be up to snuff. On the Eurasian side, it was almost a total write-off: seventeen mobile armor units were destroyed, three more captured, a line-frigate was destroyed with all hands aboard, and six recovery craft were successfully captured, after surrender. It was a fairly good turnover ratio, considering only the _Jericho_ was involved in serious combat, while the _Solomon_ and _Aurora_ secured their flank. If only the war would keep up like this, then ZAFT wouldn't have to worry as much.

"Interesting…" He said lowly, reading the initial report filed by the elder Lieutenant Mimura. They would find out soon enough what it was that Eurasia had come back for so unsuccessfully. What was more on the forefront of his thoughts though, was the word that Patrick Zara was cooking up a major operation for sometime in the foreseeable future, 'Operation Spit-Break'. There was currently no set timetable, and details were hazy.

Slowly, he left his command chair and moved towards the rear of the bridge, where a gaggle of lean youths stood at attention the best they could on a zero-gravity space battleship. "At ease."

"Sir." Mimura Kunio gave a quick salute, and slouched back slightly, easing his back. Ray couldn't blame him.

"I have to apologize for before." The Captain said with a nod, folding his hands behind his back. "However, reconnaissance duty is very important to the safe operation of any military force. Your advance warning allowed us to rout the Eurasians here."

There was the usual round of thanks, but the pilots seemed taciturn for the time. Yuki ascribed it to their relative inexperience, only a couple hours after their first live-fire battle with the enemy, and their lack of comfort with a new commander. That was to be expected really. Given time, they would be more forthcoming.

"Your assignment, aside from occasional recon detail," He explained, bringing up a screen which flashed various images and bits of data about ZAFT's new mobile suits, "is to test our experimental mobile suits so we can produce refined versions en masse, by way of putting them through combat trials."

The images that flipped by were of each different suit. Aside from the GuAIZ, and the Experimental Firearms type, there was also the ZGMF-1017M High Manuver GiNN, with an experimental 27mm gun, and a very recent addition: the Cgue ZGMF-515 Commander Unit. Very few of these had been produced so far, and they were being used mainly as mobile suits for high-ranking officers or ace pilots. Gray in coloration, it resembled the Guaiz in various aspects, carrying a very similar arm-mounted shield. One such unit was currently assigned to Raul La Cruise. It was their responsibility to produce evaluations of those units to further the war effort; a sometimes-difficult task, considering that these were _trial_ versions, and not the final, 'working' models. There were hushed rumors throughout history of failed projects, and usually armament advancement and technological success came at the price of at least a few lives, as the legendary American Apollo program proved, among the pioneers of Humanity's space-travelers.

The pilots scrutinized the images and readouts closely, occasionally murmuring a comment here and there about the design. What had qualified these pilots initially, Yuki knew, was that three of them were engineering science graduates cum laude, from Heliopolis' Science College. The remaining pilot, Hayes-Sato, was already a promising ace, and scored high academically. Mimura Nagisa particularly was of interest: while not the best pilot of the lot, he was almost at the top of his graduating class in strategy and tactics, as well as science. Some of his other categories were below-average, but his dedication in those specific fields aided in his selection.

"You can decide who gets what later." Yuki said with a smile. He could sympathize with the four pilots. By military standards, Yuki was still fairly young himself—only fourteen years older than Doyle—and considered something of a 'rising star'. "Though I may commandeer that Cgue on occasion. You'll also have the Recon GiNNs in your operational inventory, but don't rely on them too much; we'll need them almost constantly."

"Sir, what about the current task? Are we en route to the moon or L1?" Kunio asked eagerly, tearing his eyes away from the information displays.

The captain nodded briskly, killing the display images with a tap of a key. "We're moving towards the Earth Alliance's Moon base. Of course, we're not going to be hanging around in their airspace, but we'll probe their defenses a little, see what they're doing. Then we move on."

"I see." Kunio fell silent. His eyes shifted towards Nagisa and Suzuka, remaining on the latter for a moment. She'd changed her hairstyle back to her dual bunches look, something she couldn't do while piloting. Her dark brown hair, though in something of a childish hairdo, didn't detract from her mature, pale face. She glanced in his direction, and he looked away. She was smiling, but she gave the impression of slight confusion. Nagisa, whose eyebrows shot up, followed her gaze.

_Why was I looking at her like that? _He wondered after they were dismissed, headed towards the lift. He grimaced inwardly as the lift descended to the median deck. His squadmates were talking about their new mobile suits, like young children during Christmas.

"Hm…That EF type has too many weapons to worry about." Nagisa was saying, palms turned up helplessly. "That rail gun isn't my style. I'll take one of the regular Guaiz test types, if that's alright with Kunio."

"That's fine." Kunio said automatically.

Nagisa observed him critically, wondering what was getting at him. He hoped it wasn't that same nonsense about his 'lack of leadership'. That was just absurd. There wasn't a better leader among them than Kunio. With a smile, he patted his CO on the back lightly. "What about you?"

"Whatever's left, except a Recon." Kunio flashed a brief, winning grin, offering them a wink. "I've had enough rides in that thing for the time being. Once being shot at in that tin can is once too many."

That caused a round of laughter as the doors opened and they emptied out onto the deck, and they headed towards their quarters. Still conversing about their equipment, Doyle stated his position. "The Guaiz isn't bad, but I like speed. I'll see what that GiNN High Maneuver can do, and then hand you back whatever's left and take a Guaiz later on."

Kunio shrugged, feeling somewhat confused that nobody wanted the Cgue, the suit they had only one of. It didn't occur to him that Nagisa suggested to the others when he wasn't paying attention that they leave that suit for their leader. So he brought a smile to the group when he announced he'd grab the commander unit.

Life aboard the _Solomon, _for the first day and a half, wasn't all that bad. Even though their first day saw a battle, they didn't take that as a bad sign. It did though, mean that their deployment was going to be one of almost constant action, and that did sober them up a little. However, the general atmosphere amongst the four friends was one of cautious optimism. As time went on, Kunio began to feel more comfortable stepping in the squad leader shoes prepared him, which satisfied the others to no end, since it meant they wouldn't have to worry about his self-esteem.

They were given the basic tour and show, and when they sat down to discuss squadron tactics, it came down to who would have to fly the dreaded Recon GiNN during the missions they would need it. With four pilots and two necessary to operate each, they decided that recon duty would go on a rotating schedule, with Suzuka and Nagisa again, but with roles switched. For the most part though, they agreed that it would be best to keep Kunio and Nagisa free as much as possible to fly point, with the Cgue and Guaiz. When not on recon, it would just be a straightforward diamond with the Commander in point, the two Guaiz-types in the wings, and the GiNN in the upper rear. As for the testing, they were to make one report every week on the performance of their mobile suit, transmittable to headquarters.

They also took some time to get to know Major Katagiri and Drake. Katagiri was an unassuming man, pretty gruff, but likeable. He was usually found not far from the launch bay, keeping his squad under control.

The morning of the third day, they were out flying on patrol, each unit for themselves, flying in an elongated rhombus around the three fleet ships, their eyes and sensors searching for anything unusual. But it was quiet out in the Lunar Sea, with the gigantic mass of the moon hanging in the far distance. Here, there was practically nothing, much more literally than on their earlier flight. This was the location of great space battles, not a place to put a station or base. Not very far away though, if they traveled long enough, would be L4 and L1, and in between, the moon.

Nagisa was flying rearguard for the shift, his GuAIZ seemingly immobile if not for the trail of blue engine wash from his shoulder-mounted thrusters. The red monoeye slid around on its track occasionally as he scanned the perimeter. If anything, patrol duty was exceedingly boring, but he would feel just fine with it as opposed to getting stuck in the backseat of the LRR, or 'Cleaning the Giant'.

Inside the cockpit, he leaned back a little bit, allowing himself to relax. It was still morning, and breakfast sat uneasily in his belly, disturbed by the intermittent pilings of g forces associated with flying. At this steady velocity and bearing though, he was thankfully able to digest. Outside, he noted that the formation was changing, a mobile suit with a sunshine-yellow, white, gray and red hull edged closer and closer towards his position.

Mobile Suits, since the beginning of their development with ZAFT's 'Proto-GINN' (and later, the GINN Trainer) operated on the basis of using a complex computer protocol known as an Autobalancer. Essentially, using stress sensors in the frame of the MS, the unit's central computer OS calculated the relative momentum and angle of each movement, and automatically compensated for it with miniscule, barely visible movements. Using this method, it took only a slight adjustment for Nagisa's MS to shift along with the formation, requiring practically no thruster consumption. So potent and accurate were the calculations, that short of a full power-down, the program-system could keep the MS maneuvering almost indefinitely off of the ultra-compact energy battery. Of course, nothing else would work, but it was still an impressive engineering feat.

The Experimental Firearms unit had to be the most highly-visible unit in the Aprilius Gang's arsenal, a cross between the Earth Alliance's MS aesthetic and the curves of the CGUE, with its large wing binder/lifter unit and fold-out rail cannons. The rifle it carried was the same as his, but with an armor attachment painted white and blue.

He shifted accordingly, so that he and Suzuka now were on either flank of the fleet. Nagisa then opened a private communications link. "Awake yet?"

Suzuka's voice didn't sound groggy, but he imagined she wanted to rub her eyes. When her face appeared on a screen, Nagisa noted her tired expression. "Barely. You?"

"I'll make it, I think." Nagisa said with a small, reassuring smirk. "That was some nice flying you did the other day."

"You too." There was a long silence between them, but no one moved to cut the connection. Eventually, she said, "You never talk much about yourself, Nagisa. I mean, I guess I've only known you three for a month, but it feels a lot longer, and I still know next to nothing about you besides that you're Kun-kun's brother."

"Sorry. It isn't anything personal." Nagisa raised his MM1-M20 beam rifle slightly, trying to get the default aim position to be over the profile of the _Aurora._ It wouldn't do for a misfire to take out its engines. "I'm just like that I think. I clam up a lot."

"No kidding." Suzuka said. Nagisa couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not, and that thought he found a little disconcerting. "Back home, I used to keep fish, and they were my hobby…well, kind of. What about you?"

The completely unmilitary question caught Nagisa off his guard, and it was a moment before he could reply. He considered his words carefully. "I liked making computer programs and little machines, that sort of thing. Kinda lame, huh?"

"Not at all." Suzuka smiled, and her head turned for a few seconds as she checked her scopes, then her features resolved again, behind the transparent visor of her helmet. "I think that's actually pretty impressive. I like intelligence in my friends—you won't find me hanging around people who don't care for expanding their knowledge."

"Lyles aside?" He couldn't resist the light barb, partially in order to avoid what hidden implications that might lie behind her phrase. _What she likes in people…what she looks for in people? _

There was a small laugh. "Yeah, Lyles is okay. Smarter than he looks, isn't he?"

"He's not all dick and no gray matter. I mean, come on, he's a Coordinator with a top-grade education." Nagisa said casually, making sure his six o'clock was clear. It was almost time for the end of their shift. Soon they would be able to go back in, re-supply, and then just do drills until anything more important came up.

"What do you mean by _that?_" Suzuka's tone was suddenly laced with an undertone of misgivings, and her eyes narrowed enough that he could detect it through the small screen. "What's being a Coordinator got to do with it?"

Nagisa went cold. He'd said the wrong thing to the wrong person. He knew it would come down to a mistake on his part, and it had come when he was keeping the least amount of watch on his words. If he wasn't careful now, his cover would be blown. He'd let himself get too comfortable. Nervously, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Nothing!" He shook his head, hoping he hadn't gone pale. "It's that he _is_ a coordinator, and the college we went to is one of the best. Even back home he was always near the top of our class. It's hard to top him."

"I guess you're right about that…" Suzuka looked sideways, sounding much more introspective than before, the suspicion gone from her voice. However, she didn't drop it entirely, and said something that left his pulse pounding. "But still…you sounded like a Natural just now. Jeez."

"Sorry. I'm just kinda stupid, you know?" Nagisa chuckled uneasily. His GuAIZ accelerated slightly, closing up the formation by a few meters. "I'm just not very social, so sometimes I say things funny."

"It's alright." Suzuka smiled weakly. "Just don't get too weird on me. Maybe Heliopolis rubbed off on you more than you think. Remember who you are, and it will wear off, right?"

"Right…" He muttered, fighting the urge to shake his head, knowing the comm line was still open. Up until that moment, he hadn't considered Suzuka's feelings about Naturals. She didn't hate them like some Coordinators that Nagisa met, but she didn't really like them either. Intellectually, Nagisa understood the reason for this, as he understood the reason that many Naturals feared and loathed Coordinators. The irony, that she should tell him to 'remember who he was', was overpoweringly bitter.

_For all she knows, I'm just your average coordinator kid. _Nagisa sighed. He wondered, if she ever found out his secret, how she would act. It didn't occur to him that Suzuka's friendship would be contingent upon his actual nature remaining hidden. It was a solemn reminder that not all people were as open-minded and accepting as his father, Kunio, and Doyle.

Their shift ended sometime later, and Kunio debriefed them with as few words as possible, dismissing them for an hour of rest. They would meet up later for midday meal, then go through some exercises. In his room, he sifted through his meager belongings, eventually finding one item that he kept hidden from everyone, including Lyles and Kunio.

He held the picture of his birth parents between his fingers gently. The Saito family was all but gone now, and the faces of his smiling mother and father brought tears to his eyes. How long ago had it been since his real dad died? He couldn't remember exactly. He was too absorbed in his studies then to really recall exactly when it was. Oh, Nagisa cried then, and had a real fit, but then exams came around, and he had to get back at it. Then, when his mother passed away from cancer, he was somewhat prepared for it, and with the morbid qualification of having one dead parent 'under his belt', he was able to deal with it in his customary, efficient manner, organizing the funeral personally, and even avoiding a breakdown.

Now with the thought that maybe he was forgetting who he 'was'—Saito Nagisa, Natural, son of Natsuki and Kiyosato—he _did_ break down, feeling the hollowness within him created by one month of living in secrecy, of living a lie.

Then, a particularly wicked thought afflicted him. _Why do Coordinators have to exist anyways? Why couldn't they just be some other failed human experiment, so everyone could just be the same and not fight so much? _

Realizing how bigoted that sounded, how completely incongruous it was with his own personality and that of his friends, he felt self-betrayed and traitorous, and it made him wretch even more.

Humanity's strength, he knew, lay in its diversity. If he were to begrudge diversity, it would be throwing away all he'd worked for his entire life. Of course he'd seen anti-coordinator hysteria in Heliopolis. Granted, such sectionalist thought was very contained and by no means as widespread as on Earth, but it still existed where he'd lived, and he more than once defended his friends from criticism and worse. Now, with the tables turned, his own kind being criticized, even hated, he felt the sickening dualism of his own life. Caught between Coordinators and Naturals, feeling the rage of both sides made him feel the one man out. He was only getting caught in their crossfire of disdain and mistrust.

But it helped, experiencing the events in which he defended Kunio, then later, Doyle. It made him feel somewhat like a coordinator would; indignant that people would deny him the right to exist and live as he wished, and born that way without being given a choice. Of course, that last one was less of an issue amongst second-generation and third-generation Coordinators, but to those who lived away from the Homeland, it was a definitely valid notion.

Alone in his room, he wondered if there would ever be peace. Not just on the outside, but on the inside as well, within his own heart.

-

End of Phase 5.

_Moon. Tsuki. Humankind's silent watcher since the dawn of time. Disturbed by Mobile Suits, the Moon bears host to another exchange of fire, outside the Earth Alliance's Gempten Base, and does battle with Earth's new mobile squadron. Pushing himself to his limits, Nagisa strives to step into the large shoes he's chosen for himself… but finds he may not be alone._

_**Next time, on Mobile Suit Gundam SEED: Fog of War – Dark Side of the Moon!**_

_Look forward past the flames of confusion, Gundam!_


	6. Dark Side of the Moon

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for waiting for this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed the double-update. I don't really have much to say about this chapter, besides the fact that I thought it would be interesting to perhaps set up the Calamity Gundam as a potential antagonist for the Mimura Team. As always, feel free to comment or get in touch with me. Feedback is always appreciated. In other news, the site's coming along and will be up within the next few weeks.

**Disclaimer: **see first chapter.

_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED:**_

_**Fog of War**_

_Phase 6: Dark Side of the Moon_

The pilots' lounge was empty when Nagisa returned to it from eating after the others. He'd excused himself early, alleging that he wasn't feeling well, and the 'horrendous' food disagreed with him. It was a flimsy excuse, he knew, but it would have to do. He apologized and headed out, with permission from his older brother as squad leader. Kunio said it would keep until drills.

Serenely hovering in front of the temper-steelglas viewing window of the lounge, staring at the six mobile suits in the hangar, he sighed heavily. Feeling a little bit warm, he opened his uniform's high-stock collar and folded his arms over his chest. Why couldn't he just get on with it, and have to feel so divided?

One part of him wanted to find a way to continue living as a 'coordinator', while the other part desired desperately for his real home and real parents. Even though he was going to turn nineteen in a few months, he knew that the want for the parents of his birth was something natural. He shook his head. If he couldn't get over this, he was going to just make mistakes in the field. In space combat, the margin for error easily approached zero.

_The person that hunts two rabbits, _the old proverb tumbled in his thoughts, _will lose both. _ There was nothing he could do about his birth parents—even if he could go back to them, they were already gone and buried. No—they were scattered to the stars, in a gruesome memorial in the form of a destroyed space colony. _Is this how my friends feel, when they think of Junius 7? _

There was a hiss and whir, alerting him to the opening of the automatic door at the end of the room. He couldn't hear footsteps, but he turned his head. Nagisa saw Suzuka Hayes-Sato take to the air towards him, smiling faintly, outwardly apprehensive. "Hi."

He couldn't help but smile in return. Disarmingly casual and honest, Suzuka simply left him defenseless. "Hey. Sorry about before. I didn't mean to skip out on you all."

"Don't worry about that," she waved dismissively, sitting on the 'windowsill' easily. She leaned forward slightly, her two bunches of hair rising. "I had a feeling you'd be here."

Nagisa inclined his head slowly, running a hand through his thick, thundercloud-black hair. He didn't know how to say what he wanted to say to Suzuka. What he _really_ wanted to tell her was that it shouldn't matter who or what someone was, but breaking _that_ kind of barrier so soon, especially during the heat of a war, wasn't the best course of action. He still valued her friendship, even if she was biased against Naturals. It didn't quite matter to him; being a Natural was such an abstract concept; he wouldn't have known he was a Natural or a Coordinator unless a doctor or biologist told him. Something lacking so much in concrete reality should never have been used as a determining social factor, and especially shouldn't have been the reason for war. Sadly enough, he was aware that it _was_ a definite thing; he'd seen his friends do things that Naturals could never dream of, things he could only dumbly imitate. It didn't help matters at all that Suzuka was a trained biologist, so to her the difference between them would have been as clear as black and white.

"You know…" He began distantly, averting his eyes. "I hate war. Especially wars that don't make sense. I just wish that people could stop arguing. That they could _change._"

"But you signed up for the military." Suzuka said with a hint of defiance. "It means you've got something you're fighting for. At least I'd like to think so."

"Un." Nagisa bobbed his head. Then his shoulders sagged. "So I could protect people. But…that really isn't what bothers me. I'm willing enough to sacrifice my innocence for a cause. Though…warring over something like Coordinators and Naturals is kind of silly."

"I don't think so." The brunette shook her head, straightening. "People develop enmity because they can't see eye to eye. We couldn't see eye to eye with the Naturals on Earth, so they nuked us. Then we escalated and damaged Earth by putting in place N-Jammers. It's a deadly, hateful cycle."

It was an unexpected thing for her to say. He was fully anticipating for her to say, 'coordinators should be in the lead, because we're smarter', or something generically 'big-brother' like that, but what she said was more or less what he'd been saying to others. The difference was, she was saying that once people incurred sin, hatred was justified, or at least that's what he gleaned from it.

"If someone crossed you," He countered, looking her in the eye, "would you hate them for the rest of your life?"

"No, of course not." She frowned.

Nagisa laughed cynically, lowering his arms to his side. "Then why hate people, when a small number of them commit great sins against you?"

"I don't _hate_ Naturals, Nagisa." Suzuka protested, drawing closer to keep the distance between them small. "But I don't trust them. Come on, Nagi, they want to kill us! Would _you_ trust them with your life?"

Nagisa puckered his mouth and blew his breath out in a loud sigh. He wasn't getting anywhere with this conversation, so he didn't add anything to it. Instead, he just rotated on his axis, presenting his back to her. "Let's just drop it."

After a few silent seconds, Suzuka said, "Do you still want company?"

Floating near the lockers now, he took a look at his open unit. All that was in there was his flight suit, a spare datapad, his sidearm, and a few printouts of statistics from the GuAIZ and the Recon GiNN. Pressing a hand against the cool metal of its door, he closed it with a soft click, coming to a halt. With a heave, pushed back, sliding in a random, retrograde direction. Though he was used to zero gravity, being in it so often was disturbing occasionally, even if it was sometimes very amusing to be standing in midair. Some novelties didn't wear out easily.

He shrugged. "Sure."

Nagisa felt himself come into contact with Suzuka somewhere in the middle of the room, and she caught him with open arms, wrapping them around him lightly. Her chin rested softly on his left shoulder, as they both stared at the bland bank of pilot lockers. Her small body was warm, even through the fabric of her uniform. Nagisa felt a flutter in his stomach completely unrelated to how bad military food was, feeling his cheeks heat.

"You're always going off on your own…" Suzuka whispered, her cheek pressed against his. Loose, chocolate strands of hair brushed his face softly. Despite how _mature_ and militarily serious she normally was, Suzuka was indeed a woman, he realized with a tang of regret for not really having noted it before. As soldiers, they were forced to put relationships and the opposite sex out of their minds, but in the temporary privacy of the quiet lounge, he was acutely reminded of her femininity. "It bugs me. You shouldn't have to look so upset all the time."

Uncertainly, he placed his hands on top of hers. "_You_ shouldn't worry about me so much. I'll live. I have good friends around me, that's enough encouragement already."

Suzuka smiled warmly. "Belay the johnwayne, Nagi. You don't have to hide from the others and me. Especially not from me. I'll forgive you if you show signs of being human."

Nagisa smirked despite himself. "How very noble of you. I'll keep that in mind. I'm sorry for getting on your case."

"Me too." She nodded slightly, pressing her chin against his shoulder more. "I was out of line, with what I said yesterday. You have every right to believe whatever you want to."

"So do you. But…" Nagisa let that last word hang in the air, this thought unfinished.

Suzuka exhaled at length. "You want agreement…"

"Something like that." He verified, leaning into her form somewhat. It was very comfortable, floating with her like that. He knew he wasn't going to get such an opportunity for a long time, and he also didn't want to confuse himself. Keeping those thoughts in mind, he reminded himself that this was an isolated incident, and her kindness shouldn't be misinterpreted. Smiling faintly, he gave her tiny hands a tight squeeze. "Thanks, Suzie. I mean it."

"Welcome." She continued to smile, as the door to the pilots' lounge slid open noisily.

The door revealed a figure standing in a blood red pilot's uniform, hands clasped behind his still-bandaged head, cool eyes scanning the room quickly after taking a couple of steps in. As Lyles Doyle entered, he stopped in his tracks.

_"Oya, oya…"_ he managed. Nagisa and Suzuka were entwined just above the back of the couch, in some sort of embrace. Though they weren't doing anything indecent—he didn't think anyone would in there, considering there was a glass _window_ four meters wide—he was still surprised beyond his wits. "Nagisa? Suzuka?"

Nagisa's tentative smile dropped completely, replaced by a look of sheer embarrassment and horror. "Lyles! This isn't—"

"Don't want to hear it, buddy. It's your business, not mine." Lyles turned on his heel, careful not to spin off and head towards the top bulkhead accidentally. With a flippant wave, he said, "Kunio wants us over in the Bridge, if that's not too much trouble. He sent me to fetch you guys."

"Doyle, will you _listen?_" Suzuka pressed, letting go of Nagisa and using his body as a counterforce to head towards the retreating blond Coordinator. "I—"

"Like I said, Suzie," He stepped through the door, adding before it closed on him. "Could care less. _Ja."_

Suzuka managed another word before the door slid shut tightly enough for an air seal. With a growl, she slumped visibly, landing near the bulkhead. Groaning, she turned towards Nagisa. "So boneheaded. God."

"Sorry." He didn't know what else to say to that.

Suzuka blanched. "Man, that looked bad." She was going to leave it at that, but when she saw Nagisa's curious gaze, she quickly amended, "Not that I mean you're not—I mean…ugh."

"I know." Nagisa laughed, shaking his head. "I really know exactly what you mean." With a white-booted foot, he pushed off of the couch towards Suzuka with considerable force, torpedoing to her position, where she caught him and they stood firmly on the deck. He rested a hand on her shoulder apologetically. "And I'm sorry."

"It was _my_ fault…grabbing you like that." She blushed, turning away to an oblique angle. "It was…uncalled for."

"No." Nagisa said firmly, but kindly. He didn't want her to feel bad about this.  
"It was fine. I didn't mind…did you?"

Suzuka felt indecisive. When she thought of Mimura Nagisa, she saw someone she cared for, certainly, as a friend and fellow soldier. It was important to care about the people around you when you could be asked to put their survival above your own. It was only a matter of course. Not only that, they were friends before fighting together. But did she feel anything else for him?

_No…I don't._ She was pretty confident of that. Almost one hundred percent sure, actually. But something within her didn't want to paint it out of the picture. She'd had one boyfriend before, and he enlisted some time ago, and died. She'd been devastated at the time, but looking back on it, the relationship hadn't been something very serious, and would have taken a lot of time to get anywhere. What she grieved most was the death of a possibility; the _choice_ to be with or without him was taken away violently by the passing whimsy of a Natural, at the very best. At worst, it was simply ruthless slaughter. She didn't want to preclude possibilities now, especially when there was always a looming chance that they wouldn't be around the next day to explore new paths, new friendships and relationships.

_War does strange things to people, _she reflected. _Makes you want to live, more and more than ever before. _ She didn't want to close off a door when it could likely never open again to her. She wondered if relationships forged by the intense flames of warfare were meant to even last at all, but put the thought out of her mind. What mattered was just being _alive, _not such paltry considerations; at least not when tomorrow no longer remained standard issue along with the uniform. _You earn your tomorrows. _ "No, I didn't."

"Alright then. No problem, right?" Nagisa grinned wide, eyes bright for once. With a wave of his hand, the motion detector opened the door, and they walked through, on their way to the bridge.

A large map of the moon was spread out on the commander's flat display tableau, flashing here and there conspicuously. Standing not a foot away, Captain Ray Yuki had his finger pointed towards one of the blinking red dots, which demarcated an enemy installation—the Earth Alliance's war machine factory on the moon and its defensive base and staging ground.

"You're all familiar with this place," He said after Kunio's team was present in full, with Nagisa and Suzuka floating next to each other, and Lyles and Kunio opposite them on the display tableau. Lyles was frozen in a position that either suggested he was very introspective at the moment, or experiencing a good deal of pain, with his fingers pressed against his temple.

Yuki eyed each in turn. When he noted that they _were_ indeed acquainted with the lunar base, he continued. "We've got some information that we might be able to take advantage of. Our spies within the Earth Alliance informed us recently that the Naturals are going to be fielding a new mobile weapon in its test stages, on the moon, and gave us a rough location for the proving ground."

"Sounds interesting. A new enemy mobile suit?" Suzuka asked, leaning in.

Yuki nodded. "Either that, or a new mobile armor. However, I doubt that the Naturals will continue to use MA, as they've proven inferior to mobile suits. War has a steep learning curve."

"Immobile armor," Doyle chuckled lowly, almost inaudibly. "I can't get enough of them. 'Line all my Mobius ducks in a row/and I'll give ya' a's mighty show'… Let's just hope they haven't learned their lesson yet, and we can get on with finishing the war. Though…even I doubt they're that stupid."

"In the case that they _are, _then this shouldn't be a very difficult assignment." Yuki said affably, letting the lax commentary slip. He didn't mind that they were being jocular during a briefing. If their nerves got frayed too early, they would never recover. Besides, they earned the privilege. "But, we're anticipating otherwise."

"Sir?" Kunio asked, straightening. "What is the mission plan, specifically?"

The captain tapped a few keys, and a square section of the map illuminated, and expanded. The wide expanse of Kempton Ptolemeaus Crater became visible, and the outlying valleys and lunar gullies were also present in a good amount of detail. The target area was about twenty kilometers on a side.

"This is the supposed testing area, near Ptolemeaus." The captain explained, indicating with one finger. "We have no idea how many units could be in there, but there probably aren't very many. There is a possibility, however, it that it may be a trap. Therefore, we can't risk sending many units in."

"That's where we come in. More for your money." Doyle said. "That way you don't have to worry about losing too many pilots."

"Essentially. Notwithstanding, we're going to be in a position to back you up if things go south." Yuki zoomed the image out, and now the scale was much larger, incorporating most of the 'light' side of the moon, which faced Earth. A green line went from one dot a considerable distance from the engagement zone straight to one side of the tiny square. Nagisa took a glance at the scale.

"That's a long distance." Nagisa muttered.

"Yes, a necessary precaution. We'll navigate you to there by way of the lunar 'dark side'. That way, the Atlantic Federation's moon base won't detect you, since you'll be walking most of the way there. We'll follow slowly, keeping low, but farther behind. At a distance of one thousand, we'll keep watch over the outer boundary of the projected combat zone."

Kunio nodded understandingly, and when the image darkened, he glanced up towards the captain, keeping a blank face. "Sir, how much time do we have for this mission?"

"We will deploy at 0130 hours, in time for you to make it to the engagement zone and stake the proving ground out. I don't think that four mobile suits, going to ground, will attract enough attention to set off their alarms, so you should be in for an easy insertion." Captain Yuki offered them a small salute. "Otherwise, we're going to be picking all of you up early from the dance."

"Depends on how 'pretty' our 'dates' are." Doyle said with a smirk, returning the salute. "If they have anything bigger than I can carry on a Zaut, then early bedtime it is."

"Lieutenant?" The captain prompted slowly.

Doyle stood erect. "Yes sir?"

"I am _not_ going to attempt an interpretation of that." Yuki narrowed his eyes ever-so-slightly, and from the corner of his gaze, he saw that the other pilots were either genuinely amused, or in fear for their friend's life.

"Sir, good idea sir." Doyle kept the salute a second longer, trying not to look sheepish.

"_Taicho,_" Kunio moved forward a bit, placing a steadying hand on the table, "Four mobile suits? No one is in the recon GiNN?"

"I thought it might prove useful to have a GiNN Long range on the mission, but its armaments profile isn't convenient, or its overall performance." Yuki-taicho nodded in confirmation. "Now, I suggest you all get some rest before the mission; it will be a long deployment. Dismissed."

Considering they had little prep-work to do—the maintenance crews would be the ones slaving to get the MS squad's units in order, though Doyle made a request of them—the group retired to rest, however, Kunio and Lyles weren't keen on falling asleep quite yet, so they encountered each other in the pilots' lounge about an hour later, at 1615 hours. Neither gave the other more acknowledgement for a salute for the moment, apparently with issues on their minds.

Then Lyles broke the silence. "Yo, Kunio."

"Yeah?" Their squad leader was reading a magazine that he'd bought on Boaz. It was something that he'd done to keep his sanity. A popular culture magazine, it wasn't really his typical fare, but he had to content with whatever he could get his hands on, a necessary evil during war's long hours of boredom. He was leafing through a section about a supposedly steamy celebrity couple, and closed the thing in disgust, unable to take it much longer. _Even Coordinators write trash…_

"Not that it's really my business, but I thought you'd find it kind of amusing." Doyle said, sipping from a zero-g drink bottle. "I walked in on Nagi and Suzuka in the middle of what looked like a um…what's the word I'm looking for here?" He looked up high for a moment, lifting his gaze. "Ah yeah. A _moment._ Didn't really think Nagi had it in him. Way to go."

For once, Kunio was thankful for zero-g, for he would have dropped his magazine to the ground otherwise. Now it just hung uselessly before him. Trying to steady his nerves, he turned. "What do you mean by that? Something bad?"

"Not that I could tell. They _did_ however, appear to have their arms around each other." Doyle said distractedly, twisting about towards the lockers, trying to operate the lock. "Didn't look serious, but you never know. Who would have thought, Nagi and Suzie? Sad almost."

"What do you mean, _sad,_ Lyles?" Kunio said with some annoyance. What got him most was that for some time now, he'd been noticing that those two were getting friendly. He didn't mind it really as a squad leader, though it had the potential for problems later, but he did feel a strange feeling in his chest when he thought about the two.

Doyle shot him a troubled look. "Come on, think. Suzuka'd blow a gyro if she found out about Nagi."

"You think?" Kunio said softly, almost to himself. Idly, he worked the straw-tube of a similar drink bottle, filled with an anonymous beverage from the mess hall. "I know she's got the rhetoric down pat, I mean, even I've said bad things about those 'Natural bastards' and all. But _her?"_

"I know the type." Doyle offered tiredly. He had the locker open now and was fishing through it. Staring at his reflection in its door-mirror, he sighed. "You think they're innocuous, but the truth is, if you shake up their worldview, you'd be surprised what falls out of their mental pockets. Some people—Coordinators and Naturals alike—have really messed up priorities."

"Sorry, but Suzuka doesn't strike me as that type." Kunio said with a grunt. The beverage was apparently some sort of carbonated drink. Whose idea was it to make a soda for _space?_ It was like trying to drink a fine mist. He coughed. "Ugh…I mean, that's probably just an unfounded opinion, but whatever works."

"Personally," Doyle said after a moment of adjusting his hair, well aware there were other women on the _Solomon_ than just the vocal and sometimes violent Hayes-Sato. "I think that maybe your opinion is ah…_clouded."_

"Explain." Kunio ordered, though he was pretty sure about what Lyles was getting at.

Doyle frowned. "Do I even have to say it? I think you've got a thing for Suzuka."

Kunio snorted. He really didn't like where this was going. Even _he_ didn't know if he had a 'thing' for Suzuka. Besides, he really wasn't interested in relationships right now. But…that feeling. "And if I _did?_ Does it matter?"

"Come on. You're her superior officer and squad leader." The ex-engineer said with a scoff. "That's not cool. Well, not cool officially, anyways."

"Something tells me you speak from experience about superiors." Kunio said dryly.

Doyle smiled charismatically, closing the locker. "Remember when I needed that semiconductor equipment time in the lab, the female overseer from Morgenroete?"

"Oh, god no…" Kunio palmed his face.

"Yes." Lyles laughed loudly.

Kunio was in pained disbelief. He didn't really think Doyle could stoop that low. "You didn't."

"I did." Doyle nodded with aplomb. "And trust me, it paid off."

"Just what I need." Kunio shook his head wearily. "ZAFT is going to be saved by Lyles Doyle, GiNN Gigolo."

Doyle chuckled at that, as he made for the door. He had places to be before he turned in for the evening in preparation for their ground mission. "You know, that actually has a nice ring to it. I think I'll use it. Thanks."

"What have I _done?"_ Kunio said to no one in particular, when he was left alone in the lounge. Though partially amused at the entire affair, something was bothering him. Despite the light note of his exit, Doyle's information was disconcerting. It wasn't downright upsetting, no. But there was something that just didn't sit right with him about it.

_Maybe I should do something about it then, if I want it to be different,_ he thought with his normal analytical efficiency. Mimura Kunio was a very smart man, even amongst the Coordinators. However, he wasn't smart enough to leave the room with a solid course of action, and didn't know if he'd settle on one for a long time to come. He would need time, patience, and some soul-searching. He thought briefly about asking the source, about going to Suzuka and finding out if anything was up. Though that would have been a little rude, he didn't do it because of that. There was a very important second reason.

In truth, Kunio was scared.

"Alright, clear the way to all four four-fifty millimeter vertical launcher tracks!" The Chief Petty Officer said, waving his hands. "That way it will be easier to get them to the linear catapult." There was frenetic activity all around the Nazca class ship's launch centrally located launch bay, where they were prepping the four mobile suits for departure and deployment to the lunar surface. It was late, but irregular hours didn't stop the night shift from doing their very best to get things in order for the four pilots.

Nagisa was in the lounge, along with all three fellow members of his team, putting his flight suit on, sealing the gray chest covering with a click. He checked the seal, clipped his weapon to his belt, dragged his helmet out of his locker, and then closed the personal container with a loud click. He turned his head to his right in time to glimpse Suzuka finishing her preparations, sliding on her flight suit over a tight tee shirt. She sealed it, and turned, giving him a thumbs-up.

"Ready everyone?" Kunio asked, at the head of the bank of lockers. They were the only pilots currently assigned to the _Solomon_'s detail. Each Nazca class and Laurasia-type ship was capable of carrying only six mobile suits. The Solomon carried their three Guaizs, a GiNN Recon—unit 2, the undamaged one---a High Manuver, and the Cgue Commander Type. As such they were the only pilots assigned there on a permanent basis. If need be, someone could be brought in from _Jericho_ or _Aurora_ to pilot spare units, but they all had their hands full, with one lost pilot already.

"As can be." Nagisa said with a salute, floating towards Kunio and extending a hand. They shook, and the older one helped him to the ground. "This is going to be interesting. Though…"

"Eh?"

"I'm kind of nervous when it comes down to finding out what those Naturals have cooked up _now._ I hope we don't have another 'legged-ship' on our hands." Nagisa said frankly, frowning a bit as they all left the lounge, Kunio first, followed by Nagisa, the Doyle, with Suzuka bringing up the rear.

"Yeah…" Kunio agreed sullenly.

They piled into their mobile suits without fanfare, powering up the systems quickly and efficiently. It was then that they discovered what the request Doyle made of the maintenance staff was. While the pilots were resting in preparation for the long-duration mission, they placed two leg-mounted short-range missile launchers on the High Maneuver GiNN, as if it were any regular GiNN unit. It was a blessing to know that they could equip such weapons to it, even Anti-Fortress Equipment.

The ZGMF-1017M GiNN Type High Maneuver was definitely an upgrade from the standard mass-production unit. With extra armor for the shoulders and chest, as well as two huge engine pods on a backpack mount, and two extra, leg mounted engine pods with vernier nozzles, the 1017M was vastly faster. With added verniers to the armor skirt, feet, legs and chest, it was also able to pull snap turns and tactics that would leave a normal GiNN flat-footed. But to equip the two M68 'Parrus'' 3-barrel missile launchers, they were slapped on to the _inside_ of the legs, making it a bit tougher to walk with. If Doyle wasn't careful, he'd rip them off. But the maintenance staff trusted him enough to pull it off for the extra firepower.

In pairs, they launched down the linear catapult, amidst waving and cheering-on by the launch crews, who perpetually hoped for good luck on the battlefield. On the Lunar Surface, only a hundred meters below, they landed with small clouds of disturbed moon rocks, four points of red light igniting in the head of each mobile suit ominously.

Additionally, the 1017M was armed with a JDP2-MX22 Experimental 27mm rifle, which could equip his MA-M3 Heavy Sword to its barrel like a gigantic bayonet for firing and close-combat in one armament. It was definitively Doyle's style.

"All units," Kunio said within the Cgue, moving forward to take the lead, his large legs easily carrying him across the moon's surface in the low gravity. "Maintain communications on line-of-sight only. Let's not give those Earth Alliance punks any warning before we rip out the rug from under them."

"Got it." Suzuka intoned, her EFT-Guaiz raising its beam rifle and marching nimbly towards a nearby ridgeline of moon rocks. Here the rises were high, like sand dunes on a desert, but she doubted they even hold that much resistance to ordinance. They'd be aching for cover, come fight time.

Nagisa used a feathering of his thrusters to catch up, drifting on course with the others, just a few meters above the ground. His passage didn't so much as disturb the dust beneath him. "Acknowledged. Say, how long is it that we have to walk?"

"Six hours." Kunio said with detachment. He didn't like it either. "Nothing to be done about it though. Settle in, we're in for a haul."

"Mind if I take point, Kunio?" Doyle asked, maneuvering his dark green, black, and white GiNN to the forefront alongside the gray Cgue. He pointed with a big hand, "This ridgeline seems to run all the way down for a few dozen klicks towards the target. Even I can't mess it up."

Kunio smiled, resting his mobile suit in a standing position, allowing the blond man to pass ahead of him. "Feel free. You're going to get really bored."

"Or more action." Doyle countered in good humor, jetting forward enough so that he landed on the side of the gigantic slope. It took him a moment to find his footing. His legs, heavy from their extra equipment, began to slide. "Oh Jeez…These rocks will slip a lot. Be on your guard."

"Copy." Kunio replied.

The group moved forward silently, beaming an 'all-green' signal to the _Solomon, _which remained on station just behind them, letting them get steadily ahead. It would be a while before the three ships in their task force moved, as per mission orders.

The going was rough, to say the least. They made slow progress initially, unaccustomed to the way the rocks tended to drift down at the touch of their massive metal feet. However, after a while they discovered that by marching steadily, and sinking their feet in, they would be able to just get to the rock layer beneath the dust and walk on that. There were fears that the dust would mess up their joints, but Nagisa dismissed them, saying it would take a _lot_ of dust to jam them in a vacuum. The joints were sealed anyways. Anything sensitive was very much shielded by the metal and ultra-hard ceramics of their ankle shrouds.

The area they landed in was currently at the terminator between what was known as the 'dark side' and Earth-facing side of the moon. Because of this, their approach likely went unnoticed to Earth Alliance forces at Ptolemeaus Base. It wasn't long before they'd settled into a routine, of switching their point-man every hour, as someone shifted in to take the most dangerous position on a scouting or advance mission.

With multicolored lights reflecting off of his red helmet's clear visor, Nagisa studied the map of this section of the landscape. They'd long since gotten off the ridge, and now were moving through relatively even ground, save for large pilings of rocks here and there, stacked in strange arrangements. Something about them made them seem almost man-made, but he knew that was just absurd.

Suzuka was in the lead currently, using her rifle as a pointing device when she gestured for them to shift direction to correct their approach. On each of their HUDs, a yellow triangle indicated their waypoint, along with estimated distance readout. It wasn't updated by any satellites or GPS system, but rather simply by momentum-computation. Thus it was necessary to check their progress every so often, the responsibility of the person in point.

The sun shone brightly towards the horizon, glaring brilliance from one single direction, casting great shadows here and there. Ptolemeaus was somewhat far from the line between night and day. If they traveled a hundred kilometers south, they would have seen what was the battlefield where Mwu La Flaga gained his infamous nickname, the 'Hawk of Endymion'. When they'd landed, they relied solely on their running lights and mono-eye lighting for navigation before getting the added benefit of some natural sunlight. However, it seemed only to make matters worse once they got into the sun, as it shone directly in their faces. Thankfully, their monitors reduced the brightness to a manageable extent.

At 0700, they were almost in position, crossing into the square-shaped engagement zone with silent, oversized footfalls as they marched. Suzuka checked her scopes, and satisfied that they were on target, beamed a message behind her. "We're in. From here on out, we're in hostile territory."

"Act accordingly." Kunio ordered, keeping an eye on their flanks. His weapons were all active already, including his CIWS, 28mm vulcan on his left arm, and MM1-M7S heavy machinegun. His sword, an improved MA-M4A, was clipped onto his back. If it was going to happen anytime soon, he'd be on top of it. "Let's case out some ambush positions before our guests get here."

"Roger that." Nagisa said, and he broke formation, headed in a northwesterly direction to go and find an outcropping or a drift, thrusters opening and his mobile suit rushing forward carefully, monoeye roving on its black track. "Not too far out, I take it?"

"No, we move and attack as a group. Everyone, follow Nagisa's distance marker, so we all keep in extended formation." Kunio ordered, doing the same himself, typing on his side board to maintain a link with Nagisa's onboard computer, a little difficult because of their different operating systems. "Maintain exclusive use of line-of-sight. We have about fifteen minutes before we start getting visitors."

"Copy." Suzuka and Doyle echoed simultaneously.

Soon they were in position, with each hiding as best as they could, to become part of the scenery. It was marginally more difficult for Doyle, in his dark green MS as opposed to light gray. It would have to do though, and he readied his 27mm gun, searching for targets with his eyes and sensors.

"Move in. Let's get this test over with. The sooner we do that, the sooner we get back to base." Major Larsen said over his communicator link to the other units in his group. Some ways out from Ptolemeaus, there was a hilly area where they were going to do some training and live-fire exercises to finish putting their mobile suits through their paces.

All of his men were the best; they had to be, for the difficult task of piloting a mobile suit. Though they were still having some trouble with their OS, it wasn't anything they couldn't get around until actual deployment. Theirs were the first models of the GAT-01 Strike-Dagger, based on their GAT-X105 Strike, currently deployed to the _Archangel _class destroyer on Earth. They didn't really know how long it would take to get these suits into mass production, but it couldn't be that long. Scratching at his throat, against the tan fabric of his flight suit, he powered forward, raising his beam rifle tentatively. All systems were go.

Along the proving grounds there were several targets that would pop up, he knew. They'd been placed there with computer systems that would initiate as soon as their commander gave the order. Following along behind them was a _Drake_ class destroyer, for the time being only carrying half of its TS-MA1 Mobius Mobile Armors to make room for him and his group of Strike-Daggers.

"Deploy for combat maneuvers." He ordered. Formerly, Major Larsen was a fighter pilot, something he thought was better than Mobile Armor. Those MA had a bad habit of becoming mobile coffins, he'd thought, so he was more than happy when he was selected to become one of the Earth Alliance's first mobile suit pilots. He wasn't afraid of ZAFT—though he knew he should be. PLANT was rated to be a pushover at the beginning of the war, but now with the war dragging on for almost a year, and the destruction of Admiral Halliburton's 8th Fleet task force, they were in serious trouble, especially since the enemy rolled out its new _Nazca_ class ships.

He moved forward at the head of his unit, his dark gray, red and blue unit treading lightly, massing only fifty-five and a half tons. Still, he moved a little stiffly, still getting used to the controls. _Well, that's what trials are for._

As he and his fellow pilots went along, the first target rose randomly, the outline of one of the much hated—and until now, feared—GiNNs. It was actually a mock-up, of course, but it looked real enough. One of his pilots, only meters away from the offending target, opened up with a 55mm CIWS barrage, and chewed the damned thing up pretty good.

Yet another target presented itself, farther away, and this time Major Larsen was on it, jumping high to evade the fake rounds it fired off, scoring a hit to the chest compartment with his beam rifle, destroying it with a large explosion.

He heard his men chattering over the communications network, and then, heard a cry from one of the pilots, so he turned towards the location of the commotion, barking into his helmet mike. "What the hell was that, Ingles?"

"Sir! We're under attack!" The ensign shouted, and his Strike-Dagger backed up suddenly.

"Of course we are, this a combat exercise!"

"No! _Look!"_ A metallic finger shot out, just in time to get blown off by very real ammunition, as a dark green figure darted quickly through the drab landscape, rising up into midair faster than any of them would have thought possible. As two missile trails abruptly appeared from the lower half, Larsen discovered a little too late that this wasn't a secure location, as a single red eye caused him to blanch with supernatural dread.

"Bingo!" Doyle exclaimed as he powered up, firing off his 27mm rifle, and getting a glancing hit on one of the Earth Alliance mobile suits. It didn't fall though, and out of sheer luck had evaded his well-planned attack. Deciding this wasn't the time to tarry, he activated his massive turbo-boosters, soared high, and launched two missiles from his legs, and watched them with satisfaction as two hemispheres of fire erupted where two mobile suits had been standing next to each other dumbly.

"Careful, they've got beam rifles." Suzuka's voice came in with some static from discharges from the same kind of weapons—one of which she was putting to use against a fleeting mobile suit. For all the incompetence of their pilots, the Naturals built pretty fast units, she'd give them that. A shot from her rifle missed spectacularly, gouging a melted hole into the soft lunar dust, turning it into rapidly-cooling silicon. As she flew about, lifter unit opened up and deployed as wings, she had a pretty good field of view. So far, so good…

The mobile suit flew on her eleven o'clock, and unleashed a punishing barrage of munitions fire from a body-mounted system, and Suzuka was forced to push herself to evade the stream of rounds, which traced her position. Raising her rifle, she snapped off one more shot, and was rewarded only with it glinting off of the Strike-Dagger's shield. Unsatisfied, she unleashed both of her _Xiphias _rail guns, unfurling them quickly, rolling violently to port, slamming the mobile suit on the side with one of the two yellow lines, which ripped off its shield.

Wasting no time, and rapidly closing with the ground, she extended her arms, pushing the thrust bars, and plowed her foot into her main booster pedal. With a surge of g forces, she roared towards the Natural mobile suit, removing an MA-M01 _Lacerta_ beam saber, and dashing the unit in two with its bar of violet light, from metal crotch to mechanical head, taking glancing hits to her shoulder fins.

The wreckage of the Strike-Dagger took some time in falling to the ground, separating in to two sparking halves. Before either could quite hit the rocks, they exploded violently, throwing Suzuka into a tumble, which took her a moment to assert control over. "Nailed one. Get in close, but be careful, their CIWS isn't for show!"

"Roger, Suzie." Nagisa muttered, his _Lupus_ rifle thrumming away. "See if you can go for that _Drake_ destroyer…it's getting awfully close."

As the young woman was in the best firepower position to handle something as heavy as a warship, he delegated that responsibility to her. There were two 'flights' of ZAFT suits present, with their squad leader taking Doyle as a wingmate, and leaving Nagisa to handle Suzuka, or vice versa. But what he said still held true, despite such irrelevant facts. The _Drake_ class was nimbly moving towards the center of the conflagration, launching missiles intermittently trying to score hits on the ZAFT units. There was no telling when one of those missiles would get lucky and hit home.

Barrel rolling out of the way of a spray of powerful 75mm rounds, Nagisa checked his bearings, turned over, leveled his beam rifle, and pushed down his arm mounted trigger. A single shot, aimed along the length of his outstretched, right leg, lanced out towards the direction of the _Drake_ class, clipping a mobile armor, and then slamming hard into the side of the ship, destroying the vulcan cannon that was tracing him. He didn't want to wind up junk for the Earth Alliance to scavenge.

Above him, he saw Suzuka swoop in, firing her own weapons in a wild storm of energy and bullets. He was almost dazzled, as she evaded concentrated fire, trying to remove the weapons on the enemy, but currently unsuccessful, as Mobius units and a Strike-Dagger rose up to meet her. She was going to get killed if she didn't get out of there, even if her lifter was pouring out quad machinegun fire and beam energy at a high rate.

Without hesitation, he thundered forward, aiming his beam rifle carefully, firing multiple shots. Fearing reprisal, he held up his MA-MV03 shield, in time to catch an angry line of energy from the Earth mobile suit, which apparently just noticed his arrival. Annoyed, with a scorched shield, he fired his beam rifle, dropped altitude, and rushed in, striking the repugnantly colorful unit with quickly deployed beam claws against its heavy shield, drawing deep clefts into its surface.

It returned fire with its vulcans, so he got even more irritated. Deciding the pilot's life wasn't worth sparing, knowing that now Suzuka must be fighting desperately, he grit his teeth and fired his beam rifle for a covering moment, putting a few more meters of distance between them.

Locking tone sounding, he activated his EEQ7R Arrestor units, two small, trapezoidal armaments mounted on his hips. Attached to his backpack by cables, they were ejected with ballistic force towards the enemy mobile suit, two gaps of short energy blades at their tips. With lightning speed, they closed in, one slicing off an arm, and the other crashing straight into the chest compartment, the pilot caught completely off-guard. With whip-crack violence, the two arrestors retreated back to their clamps.

"_Kono baka no Natural-domo,_" He said unthinkingly, "Damned fool doesn't know when to quit! Suzuka, still there?"

"Haaaiii!" she shouted over the din, attempting to evade heavy weapons fire. Fortunately, the _Drake_ class wasn't equipped with heavy beam weapons of any kind, but it more than made up for that shortcoming with some intense ballistics. She was backing away now, using her backpack beam cannons to eliminate oncoming missiles and torpedoes, which the enemy ship launched without mercy. The space ahead of her was a veritable firestorm as rounds raced in, coming as close as a meter to her rapidly juking and jinking position.

Extending her retracted rail cannons, she squeezed down on her control handle, effectively pressing the trigger. Thick, yellow shafts of light rocked her mobile suit, sending it farther back in the low gravity, as the shots from the guns impaled the _Drake_ amidships, emerging again at the other side of the vessel. Without so much as a grin of triumph, she fired again and pounded it a second time, scoring a second pair of gaping holes through the ship. Sparking and belching flame, it took a couple seconds to fully die, as mobile armors and one remaining strike dagger tried to get away. The force of the angry crimson blast of the destroyer's final death suddenly threw whatever lurked around that vicinity brutally away, towards moon and stars.

Kunio, across the engagement zone, saw the explosion and smiled. That was another ship kill for Suzuka in as many missions. She was proving herself quite useful. Focusing his attention on the task before him, he fired all of his weapons simultaneously, circling around a leftover Strike-Dagger, exchanging fire with it in his gray Cgue. His wing-pods expanded fully, and they moved dizzyingly in circles, his dual lines of ballistic fire met with angry green rays of light.

With a click, his machinegun went dry, and he had to eject the top-mounted magazine, pushing his thrusters hard to angle away towards the sky, high and right, narrowly avoiding a series of shots from the close-in weapons system of the Strike-Dagger. Securing another magazine in with his left hand, he resumed firing. All the while, the 28mm vulcan under his composite shield was trying to bisect the meddlesome enemy unit. He was a little too slow though, either because the Natural pilot was closer than he thought, or had been given too little credit.

A beam saber extended from the suit's hand, glowing energetically, as it screamed in his direction, twin yellow eyes shining. Mimura fired his thrusters again to back up and by himself a couple of precious seconds. A swipe of the enemy's beam saber destroyed his heavy machinegun, but that only freed his hand to remove his heavy sword and send it overhead and crashing into deadly, thrumming blade of his foe.

The two mobile suits struggled like this for a moment, sparks flying everywhere, and then Kunio lowered his suit's profile, and engaged his vulcans, ripping away armor and components on the Strike-Dagger. It backed away, wounded, giving the ZAFT lieutenant the time he needed to renew his assault.

Dropping his shoulders and stretching his wings, the Cgue accelerated straight for the enemy, passing under a spray of beam fire only to shear right through the chest compartment, killing the pilot and destroying the mech. In seconds, the rest of the battle was over. As he landed on the ground with a thud of metal feet, sword in hand, the sky was illuminated with the death fireball of the downed Strike-Dagger.

"That should set them back," He grunted, and with a sigh, looked down at his sensors and IFF locator to get a handle on the situation. Doyle appeared behind him, in his High-Maneuver Type. Confirming his half of the team was safe, he commed the others. "You guys alright?"

"A little bruised and battered, but alive." Suzuka said faintly.

Nagisa chortled. "I wonder if that's all. Do you think we hit them hard enough? There might be other units nearby."

"Yeah…No way we should just leave without getting some sort of confirmation." Kunio agreed with the younger man. Something needed to be done to make sure their mission was a success. There might be another training squad somewhere, or another ship. There was almost _definitely _another ship. "Let's not take too much time though, I think that Ptolemeaus might have discovered us, or the Drake might have had enough time to shoot off a mayday."

"Want someone to go signal the _Solomon?"_ Doyle asked.His GiNN was a little banged up; apparently one of those MS's beam rifle got the better of his shoulder, and his head fin was missing. The sight wasn't encouraging, but he was still functional and well-armed. "Are we in range of a tight beam?"

"I think." Nagisa said, standing on a ridge nearby. His frame was dinged here and there, but intact. Still, he was a little worried. The Earth's new mobile suits weren't pushovers at all, or at least they wouldn't be once they pressed them into service with the kind of numbers that Earth commanded. Pound for pound, they were better than the standard GiNN, but they were almost less than equal to the new GuAIZ, yet Earth simply outnumbered ZAFT strongly.

"Raise them. Ask them if they can pull in or reinforce us." Kunio told Doyle, biting his lip. He didn't want to be here if another force showed itself, not so close to the Earth Moon Base, without support.

Suzuka didn't quite agree. "We took care of it. I don't see much reason for us to hang around here, when we're probably already in the Moon's defense net."

"He wants us to do this because it would be for nothing, if we let the other test models get away." Doyle explained tiredly, raising the _Nazca_ class ship.

Nagisa put a large hand on Suzuka's fake shoulder. "He's right, we didn't walk here for nothing…but…makes me wonder…are those Naturals dumb enough to put all their eggs in one basket? We could well roam around here, kill more of those things, only to the effect of adding more confirmed kills."

Kunio thought that debate was good for the progress of ideas, but with even Nagisa questioning the plan, he thought that the rumbling in the ranks was getting a little carried away. "We patrol, if we find anything, kill it, and get out. That way no one can pass off the blame to us for not stopping the deployment of those new units."

"Fine." Nagisa backed down easily, shaking his head. He flexed his fingers as he tried to catch his breath after the battle. His hands felt a little clammy beneath the fabric of his normal suit. It was already chafing. With a jump, he headed down the slope and began to make a search pattern. On the side, he was running a damage analysis.

_Naturals…_he repeated the word in his head a few times. It sounded weird for him to say it that way, even if it was only for the purpose of a cover. What was odd about it was that the Coordinators used the same word for natural born humans as Naturals did. It was almost self-mocking, he mused, that a race would call their enemies natural, with the distinct unwanted implication that they were the _opposite._ It made him question whether or not that Naturals themselves might have thought up the label. Certainly, George Glenn's coined 'Coordinator' was an interesting term for the genetically-modified and engineered humans of the PLANT colonies—though he didn't live to see their establishment as a nation—and by extension, himself, carried a certain glamour and mystique, if not the pallor of hatred that hung about those who would use the word like a dark incantation or curse. Nagisa felt a special connection to the word completely separated from his friendships with three of their number. He was supposed to be living the life of a coordinator. By and large, for all intents and purposes, he _was_ a coordinator.

_I even pilot a mobile suit,_ he thought cynically. The new Earth Alliance pilots had just rudely stolen that particular unique trait from him, but he was more than willing to give up such a mantle. What sufficed was that he'd achieved half of his ends; he wasn't in the business of gaining praise, at least not from those who would praise him for such a trivial task. _I pilot, but it doesn't make me one of them. I guess it's the thought that counts. _

"I see something," Nagisa said lowly, crouching with a raised rifle. The sun was slightly higher now that they'd shifted positions inside the engagement area, their own movement creating the time of day in a disturbing fashion. Such movement wouldn't cause shifts on the Earth, if it were always facing the sun; only the moon's relative smallness compared to its center dance partner made such a conspicuous phenomena possible.

On his radar screen—baffled up by the N-Jammers but clear enough here—and on his infrared sensors, he picked up heat sources and pings at the very edge of his sensor range. He wished for once that he had the sensors of a Recon GiNN, but these would have to do. Sweeping the wide band of commonly-used Earth Military channels, he found some static-ridden transmissions going back and forth.

"Check northeast thirty-eight degrees, Distance …ten." He said to his squadmates, still crouching low. He felt thumping as another mobile suit ran up to meet him, and when his monoeye rolled sideways, he saw it was Kunio. A mechanical hand reached over and pressed itself against Nagisa's suit for some 'skin-talk'.

"Keep quiet everyone…remember, if we can see them on infra, they can see _us."_ The leader said circumspectly.

Nagisa nodded with a grin. "Sort of like Basic…if they're in weapons range, so are you."

"Seems like a few years ago, doesn't it, Nagi?" Kunio mumbled with muted cheer. He didn't have time to get comfortable, but he wasn't beyond banter. "Keep sharp, Nagi…your flying is ace-quality, just don't get distracted."

"Roger that, Lead." Nagisa said pointedly, and returned to straining his sensors. He rested the barrel of his rifle on a bit of rock, wishing he had a bipod. This was a particularly nice sniping position, allowing him to sight along the lunar basin for a few kilometers in a roughly 100 degree arc.

"Doyle? Status?" Kunio asked.

A few seconds ticked by before the reply came. "_Solomon_ and its escort say they're coming as fast—or as slow—as they can. Estimate about four minutes arrival time."

"Four _minutes?"_ Kunio croaked, sighing. He firmed his grip on his control bars. "They'll be on our asses by then. People, prepare for assault. Take formation. Any indication of what we're up against?"

Suzuka was heard meekly griping in the background. "My power might not hold that long. This suit is a guzzler. I'm on fumes here."

Nagisa studied the sensors, calling his training into use, analyzing the sensor profiles. At this range, the onboard computer wasn't able to attach labels to profiles. "I'd say…another _Drake_ class…almost _definitely_ more of those damned suits, and I have no _clue_ what one sensor blip is. Mobile suit-sized though, hotter than a roman candle."

"You heard the man, so get ready." Kunio said crisply, marching off into a different direction to case out a spot to begin his attacks from. With only his vulcans, heavy sword, and composite shield-vulcan as weaponry, missing his main gun, he would have to work hard. He was happy though that the M7070 could punch through heavy armor. Peremptorily, he placed his hand on his sword. He didn't need a 76-milimeter machinegun to down those pansy mobile suits, even if they had beam rifles. It would take more than a few arrogant Earth Alliance types to take him down. "Places, everyone. Dress rehearsal's over."

They came in pretty fast, considering. The _Drake _class was in the lead, its hundred-thirty-three meter silhouette seen head on as it came over a rise, the Earth hanging right above it as some sort of strange, cosmic banner for its forces. There were a few of those gaudy mobile suits, shields and beam rifles at the ready. They weren't quite up to snuff compared with the GAT-X105 Strike, but they weren't far behind, though, good examples of how experimental units should have compared to their mass production cousins. He was just glad they didn't have that so called 'Phase Shift' armor. _That_ would have been a real problem.

Checking his sensor readout, and his bearings, Nagisa waited for the signal to move. It came just as he was getting anxious of being so prone. A hand could be seen, and a gray forearm waving, the 'all ahead' hand signal of the infantry, which they learned at Boaz. _Mission is go._

Even as Kunio's unit was spreading its wings for powered flight, Nagisa was out and ready, his own booster assembly alive with a light blue halo of thruster exhaust, accelerating dangerously towards the new enemy. The same enemy was less confused than before this time, already aware that another test group had fallen to an unknown enemy. Without waiting for the enemy to have the first shot, he let loose a salvo of shots, the same instant the enemy decided to take their chances against him, a couple of the mobile suits lifting off and giving chase.

At the head of the column though, was a disturbingly _powerful_-looking mobile suit the likes of which none of the young ZAFT pilots had ever seen. Its cobalt, orange, and gray profile hovered high above the ground, and two massive cannons on its shoulders swung forward, and let out a destructive inferno from its 125mm barrels, almost catching Kunio square, forcing him to take the evasive, flying right, left, high, then dropping low enough to disturb the rocks with his flight. A huge plume of lunar dust rose into the airless void behind him.

"What the--?" he managed, barrel-rolling away at high speed, sending vulcan fire at the new, unidentified mobile suit. The rounds hit home, barely, but seemed to have very little effect. Nagisa grunted lowly. "…Phase shift armor?"

"This guy is fierce!" Suzuka yelled, angling away quickly and pummeling one Earth mobile suit with a rain of light from her rail guns, dissipating smoke and dust. She turned her beam rifle and other weapons towards the leader unit and fired repeatedly, but scored only vacuum. When the shots reached their target sector, the mobile suit was already gone. "Amazing!"

"We can't stand up to this!" Nagisa said, narrowly escaping a grisly death at the hands of four beams of energy which emitted from the new unit's two beam cannons and dual ram cannons, his unit flying right through the gap between them, enough to scorch the paint job on his Guaiz. His head-mounted CIWS was unleashed, and only now began to eat away at the armor of the command unit, which suddenly was backing away. He didn't like the feel of that, so he broke left, hard, lashing the suit with the purple-hued arrestors on his way out.

Not a second too soon, as an electric purple, red, and white shaft of energy passed the space he'd just occupied, the source being a gigantic, 580mm multiphase cannon. In the distance, a huge explosion flared to life as the shot struck a ridge, annihilating enough material to leave a crater large enough for a launch pad, turning the pit into volcanic glass. He just couldn't take that. "Holy _shit."_

_That was a positron blaster! _Nagisa didn't have the time to be overawed at how they achieved that feat on a mobile suit though.

"What the hell _is_ that thing?" Doyle cried, launching his remaining leg rockets while slapping another magazine into his rifle. He wasn't fighting the leader-unit directly; instead he was working on the two mobile suits that were even now launching a storm of blasts in his direction.

The GiNN jinked and juked, as its coordinator pilot tried desperately to keep his flight erratic and unpredictable, dropping in diagonals, curves, and sharp turns, anything to shake his attackers. Only one of his missiles hit home, as the others were picked off by energy blasts. One of his attackers disappeared noiselessly in the vacuum, leaving only a solitary, but nonetheless dangerous target.

"Stupid ornament, go and die!" He yelled, diving straight for the machine, firing his JPD2-MMX22 Experimental 27mm rifle with abandon. One shot gouged out the footing that the mobile suit was standing on, keeling it over. The next entered with amazing speed and accuracy into the chest compartment, as not milliseconds afterward, Doyle swooped meters above it, leaving a detonation cloud in his wake. "I'm clear…need help?"

"Uh…_yes?" _ Suzuka gave a surly reply, jumping out of the way of a bazooka attack from that same lead unit. She lost one of her flight surfaces—and part of the booster—and couldn't keep this up for long. But she didn't need to, as soon the mobile suit was distracted by the appearance of the crazily erratic GiNN High Maneuver. A dark green fly, it buzzed and otherwise harried the larger suit without abate. Energy fire followed, but the void sucked it up, Doyle's inhuman reflexes pushing the GINN to the very limit.

"Damn it, I'm empty!" Nagisa shouted, as his vulcans died on him, leaving him with his beam rifle alone, and even that was running on fumes. A shot managed to strike one of the immense beam cannons on the enemy unit, knocking it clean off, and only earning a fiery reprisal from the remaining one, which Nagisa strafed to avoid. He soon earned more unwanted attention when the _Drake _launched a missile barrage in his direction.

The missiles erupted in a blaze as a yellow line cut across their path, intersecting munitions canceling each other out nicely. Relief coursed through Nagisa's system, and he looked sideways in time to catch a Guaiz flying towards his sector at high speed, with one blinking booster.

"Thanks, Suzie." Nagisa was suffused with gratitude.

There was a chuckle on the other end. "You'd do the same for me. Keep sharp, the _Drake_ is still alive, looks like we'll have to teach it a lesson."

"Yeah. Doyle! ETA?" He yelled, pushing his thrust bars to full and making a beeline for the destroyer, which spoke a deadly language of vulcan rounds at him, and a 10-barrel missile launcher hurled canister-shaped implements of death in his direction, which at such breakneck speeds were easily passed. They made an impressive line of detonations in the background though, only adding to the chaotic brawl.

"About a minute…just hang on a little longer." Doyle said as he pushed the thrusters on his GiNN to the max, feeling gravity multiply enough that it was difficult to breathe. Belatedly, he picked up his GiNN sword and took wing towards the _Drake_-class, passing a mobile armor and gutting it cleanly before it got a lock on him. Not stopping, he bolted for the annoying missile launcher and with some luck, managed to pass most of the vulcan guns' tracking fire. Mercilessly, he rammed the point of his sword into the multi-barreled missile launcher system, ripping out its innards and silencing the terrible device. Not waiting to find out what would happen if he stuck around, he plowed his sword down once again, and jetted off, leaving smoking ruins behind him. Thankfully, his proximity to the ship gave the leader unit some pause—if one of those massive beam shots hit the _Drake_, it was as good as gone. It may be that the Earth was changing its ideas about fratricide since it engaged a Cyclops on one of its lunar bases, taking out ZAFT and its own forces in the process.

"We're not waiting." Kunio's voice cut in through the bedlam of battle, his Cgue's sword swiping at a mobile armor above him, pruning an engine nacelle off of the Mobius type, sending the ungainly-looking craft out of control and into the lunar dust, where it crashed with enough force to cause a quake-inducing blast along the surface. Behind him, another was swooping in to resume the assault on the interloping squad. "Break for the _Solomon, now!"_

A flurry of responses came in, and one by one they left their targets, doing the best they could to escape. The Earth Alliance mobile suit wasn't to be outdone, and accelerated out to follow, nearly catching up to Nagisa, who simply flipped over and poured fire into it, causing it to swerve defensively. With his speed mounting, Nagisa was able to peel away, as the enemy went to his left, veering towards Suzuka, who gave it no quarter with a blast from the _Xiphias_ rail cannons, a powerful enough weapons system to make the pilot think twice before making a reckless charge. Damaged as she was, Suzuka didn't represent easy prey, even for such a monstrosity as the Earth's new prototype MS.

Of course, what she neglected to say over the comm net was that she'd just run dry as well.

The _Solomon_ was looming ahead of them as they left the Drake class behind, but the enemy mobile suit was hot on their heels, causing them to scatter as a shot from the main gun streaked past. In response, the _Solomon, _now in the immediate engagement area, came alive with fire from its two, hundred and twenty centimeter beam turrets, ten CIWS vulcan emplacements, and 450mm rail cannons, forcing the enemy suit to wildly break its attack run and engage in erratic movements, dipping below the median and reappearing high, only to discover that was where _Jericho_ was waiting, which also began to fire upon it. Mobile suits were already exiting from the launch bays of both Laurasia class vessels, GiNNs taking to space quickly from the linear catapults.

The _Drake_, with less armaments than its owners would have liked, outnumbered and outgunned, offered only meager covering fire for its mobile armors and one remaining mobile suit, as the _Solomon_ under Captain Yuki began to target it. A myriad of anti-beam missiles were launched, catching the intersecting lines of energy, temporarily sparing the smaller ship.

Ray Yuki's tenor voice came in over the all-hands link. "Recover towards the _Solomon,_ we'll effect retreat maneuvers."

"Retreat sir?" Doyle asked dubiously. They had that _Drake_ flatfooted and against the wall. Suddenly, the situation was shifting rapidly to their favor.

"In case it slipped, Lieutenant, we're right near Ptolemeaus. _Aurora_ has already detected ships closing in on this location." Yuki informed without much reproach as most captains would have let show. Though he knew better than to turn a retreat into a rally and suffer losses as a result. They had what they came for.

"Yes, sir." Doyle said without argument, but not without mouthing off once he was sure his link was cut. "_Che, kore wa sakusen nano?" _You call this a mission?

He didn't have time to rant though, because though it was giving ground, that blue-orange MS wasn't giving _up._ Their saving grace was the intense firestorm put up by the presence of ten GiNNs, two Laurasia-class ships, and the _Solomon. _ With that kind of firepower, the one mobile suit was forced to fall back.

Each ship began using maneuvering verniers to turn on their centers of mass, pivoting for an escape corridor, as one provided covering fire for the other. GiNNs with Anti-Fortress weaponry hammered the _Drake,_ slamming its engines with gigantic, mobile-suit sized missiles. The Earth Alliance ship began listing dangerously, venting atmosphere on its portside flank.

A parting shot from the enemy mobile suit's main gun clipped the _Solomon_ along its starboard side, causing an explosion which rocked the great ship, causing her maneuver to temporarily stop as its crews tried to get the ship under control once again. After about ten seconds, it was underway, but only at a limp compared to its maximum speed. They were lucky to escape that with only non-mortal damage, but it could prove to be problematic anyways.

Suzuka formed up on Doyle, firing her vulcans until they emptied, and she was left ineffective. Doyle simply pushed her towards their _Nazca-_class mother ship and fired what was left of his 27mm rounds towards a fleeing mobile armor, gaining a glancing hit, sending the craft into a roll, which the pilot miraculously brought under control.

Nagisa appeared soon after, raising his shield protectively as his Guaiz did the space mobile suit's equivalent of backpedaling, drifting towards the sea-green hull of the _Solomon_ as it executed a perfect banking turn, headed away from the combat scene.

Kunio was right behind him, replacing his sword in its holder and urging the others to go ahead and recover into the _Solomon_ while he kept watch on their backs. The mobile armors and MS had broken off their assault, but that kind of good luck was easily jinxed in space battles.

He was paying enough attention to the airwaves to catch Suzuka mutter, "We better be getting hazard pay for putting our suits through tests against the _enemy's_ test types…damn Natural mobile suits."

Kunio shook his head dejectedly. It was going to be a long way before someone like her would be able to see Naturals eye to eye. Hopefully, with some hard work and good encouragement—after the war was over, preferably—they would disabuse her of that kind of sentiment, though he was surprised earlier to hear _Nagisa_ swearing like a coordinator. He would ask later if the youth's heart was in it or not, but he couldn't be sure, even with an answer. In battle, people rarely have time to think about public relations strategies.

Severing hostilities and burning a path out of the battle zone, the two Laurasia ships and their newer leader took their mobile suits back and prepared for what could only be a breakout from hostile, enemy territory, leaving behind the beleaguered _Drake_ class, and the GAT-X131 'Calamity' to their own devices.

End.

-

Heading home to PLANT is easier said than done, with the Earth Alliance desperately seeking to keep their mobile suits a secret from ZAFT's command headquarters. Nagisa fights a desperate battle to stay alive, though he's pushing himself to the limits of his human abilities.

Next time, on Mobile Suit Gundam SEED: Fog of War – Phase 07 : A Fading Light 

_Hold fast to your hopes, Solomon!_

_--_


End file.
